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thatonegenshinsimp · 1 year

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Cold Mornings with a Warm Lover (fem!reader NSFW)

Notes: I knew I’d eventually go down this rabbit hole at some point, and now you all finally get to see who (some of) my favorite men are. I feel like it got a bit redundant but I hope you enjoy~

Masterlist

Characters: Capitano, Thoma, Diluc, Childe, Alhaitham, Itto

Warnings: NSFW, fem!reader, badly translated Russian (sorry for any mistakes), unprotected sex, missionary, riding, squirting, marking, size kink, belly bulge, creampie

NSFW content below, Minors DNI! By scrolling down past this point, you have decided to read the content below of your own accord!

Capitano

You woke up slowly on mornings when there was no work to be done for Her Majesty at Zapolyarny Palace. This was one of those mornings, and you enjoyed them even more with your husband, Capitano. He was a very closed off individual, but not to you. He confided in you often, trusting you with the things that bothered him. He, regardless of how strong he was, was still merely human, and had needs of his own. You were the one who fulfilled those needs whenever he went to you. He couldn’t have been more grateful, and he showed you how grateful he was to you last night. You were waking up slowly now, and leaned against him for warmth when you felt the freezing air outside of the sheets. He stirred slightly, but didn’t wake up just yet. You smiled softly, snuggling up to him to get more body heat from him. After a few minutes, you heard him speak. “You’re freezing, come here.” He said, his deep morning voice serving to make you squeeze your thighs together as he pulled you closer and wrapped his arms around your waist and upper back. “Good morning, dearest.” He whispered, looking down at you as you leaned against him. His deep blue eyes peered down at you through barely opened lids, but he still smiled softly. “Good morning to you, too.” You replied, leaning into his touch as his hands gently caressed your skin.

He pulled back from you and looked you up and down, taking immediate notice of the slight bruises on your hips. “Apologies.” He whispered, leaning down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss as he pulled you up to where you were at his eye level. “Are you alright? I know I wasn’t very gentle with you last night.” He asked, reaching up to cup your face in one of his large hands. “I’m ok, please don’t worry about me. Last night was wonderful.” You reassured him, leaning into his touch as you pulled his face closer to yours and kissed him again. He balanced on his forearms and then sat up, exposing your bare body to the cold air and making you shiver. You curled in on yourself and wrapped your arms around your body, trembling from the cold. He immediately laid back down and was about to hold you again when he saw the red tint on your face and the way your thighs rubbed against each other. You looked to the side, embarrassed that he’d found you out, but immediately looked back at him when he put his hands on either side of your head and looked down at you, looming over you. His gaze was always gentle whenever it rested on you, and the same was still true now. You looked up at him as your face got even hotter. “Look at you, so needy.” He mused, before he spoke again. "May I?" He asked, causing you to nod softly. He pumped himself a few times before lining up his tip with your slit, dragging it over before he slowly pushed the blunt head past your entrance. Your eyes screwed shut as you took him in slowly, feeling him gently roll his hips against yours. You wrapped your arms around his middle, digging your nails into his back and leaving tiny red crescent moons in their wake. The moment he bottomed out, he stayed still, keeping his hips pressed against yours as he held your thighs down against the bed. “Good girl, taking me in one go like this. You deserve a reward for being so good for me last night.” You heard him say. “Do you think you deserve a reward?” He asked, causing you to look up at him with half lidded doe eyes as you spoke. “Y-yes, please- mmh~ I promise I’ll be good.” You moaned, looking down as you saw the outline of his cock almost going up to your bellybutton. “Ngh~ s-so full- ahh~!” You moaned, putting your hand over your mouth to muffle your noises, only for him to gently grab it and pin it beside your head. “You’re always so- shit- so good to me. Always taking care of me- Ngh~ Let me take care of you now.” He mumbled, his lips pressed against your neck as he spoke. You whined and clenched around him as you wrapped your legs loosely around his waist. Capitano gently traced your jaw with his hand, causing you to desperately lean into his touch as he kept going. You felt him, thick and heavy, dragging against your walls as red tinted his beautiful face. He pressed his forehead against yours as he started going faster, keeping a tight grip on your hips with one hand as he grunted softly. The other hand was busy drawing circles against your clit. The knot in your lower abdomen tightened as he kept hitting that one spot that made you see stars, chuckling as your eyes rolled back and you squeezed around him. “Mmngh~ m’ g-gonna cum- Ahhn~!” Your walls clenched around him tightly as his hips stuttered against yours. “That’s it, just let go, sweet thing. I’ll take care of you.” He groaned, his breath hitching as he twitched inside of you. With one last deep thrust, he buried himself deep inside of you and came, letting your gummy inner walls milk him for all he was worth.

You had tears in your eyes as you came down from your high slowly, relaxing in Capitano’s arms. “Th-thank you, mmm~ thank you s’much.” You mumbled, feeling him press his hips taut against yours. You jolted against him as he slowly pulled out, hissing softly from the sudden emptiness you felt. “Shh, stay still, I’ll clean you up.” He said, getting up and grabbing a warm washcloth from the bathroom. You laid there and let him clean you up, before relaxing against the mattress as he got back in the bed with you. “Rest, we’ll get up later.” He muttered, pulling you close to his chest and letting you lay against him as you sleepily nodded and closed your eyes, falling asleep in his warm embrace.

Thoma

There were few mornings when Thoma didn't have to head over to the Kamisato Estate early to tend to Ayato and Ayaka. He often left you to wake up alone, waiting for him to get back after doing your daily commissions for the Guild. Today, however, you woke up to his lovely green eyes looking at you as he held you close. "Good morning, my love. How are you?" he asked, watching as a soft smile appeared on your face at the sight of him. "What are you doing still here? shouldn't you be at the Estate by now?" you asked, suddenly concerned. "Nah, My Lord called off work for me today, and told me to enjoy the two week period of the Irodori Festival as I wished. I saw it fitting to spend at least the first day with my lovely wife." he said, leaning in and pressing his lips against your neck. "Thoma, stop, haha, your hair tickles." you laughed, causing him to smile against your neck as he kept kissing the soft skin. You threaded your fingers through his hair and gently pulled him back away from your neck. You then fell back against the mattress, panting as red tinted your cheeks.

You were about to say something, but your words caught in your throat as you looked up and saw the look he was giving you. His eyes were slightly wide, and had a sort of needy look in them, but he spoke again, anyway. "I was wondering what you wanted to do for the first day of the festival?" he asked, causing you to smile up at him. "I want you to keep me warm in this comfortable bed of ours." you said, starting to undress. You slipped off the pajamas you had on and sighed, before speaking again. "Because this bed has been very cold," you took off your underwear as you spoke, throwing them on the floor beside the bed, "without you here warming me up." you finished, watching as he scrambled to take off his nightclothes. He leaned in and kissed you gently, pouring his emotions into that kiss as his face went red. "Do you want this, though? I don't want to force you." he asked, his tone returning to gentle. You nodded softly. "Of course I do. It's you, and regardless of how many times you ask, I will almost always say yes." you replied, reaching up and cupping his face in your hands. "I love you, Thoma." you whispered, bringing him closer to where his tip was pressed against your entrance. You gasped softly when he slid in quickly, eyes going wide as he lifted your body before settling you on his lap. "That's it, jus' stay still, please. M'gonna cum if you keep sucking me in like this- hah~ s'good." he moaned, rocking into you to further stretch you out. He always kept you in mind whenever he made love to you in the morning like this. "Mmhng~ Thoma- hnn~ s'big- ah~!" you squealed when he reached down and rolled his thumb against your clit, drawing out those pretty noises he loved hearing you make. "Look at you. Have I ever told you how pretty you look under me like this?" he asked, pressing his lips against yours as he bottomed out with a groan. You moaned into his mouth, relaxing against his chest as you started to adjust to him. "You look so good taking me like this. I just wanna keep going and- ngh~ never stop." he grunted, bouncing you on his lap as you held onto his shoulders tightly. "Thoma, f-feel- mmnh~ feel you s-so deep. So deep inside- ahn~ me!" you yelped, noticing how his hips were stuttering against yours as he kept moving. "Yeah? It feels good? Do I make you feel good?" he asked, causing you to nod softly. After a few more minutes, you felt your orgasm hit you full force, making you tremble against his chest as you came. "Thoma, m'cumming, cumming- anhmm~!" you moaned loudly, hiding your face in his neck when he came with you. "There we go, nice and warm, just like you wanted, right?" he asked, watching as you nodded mindlessly. He felt you clenching around him and grinding your hips back into his, milking his cock for all it was worth, and he gladly held you against him, keeping your hips against his. He was always so gentle whenever he had to pull out, but instead, he stayed inside of you, hiding his face in your neck and kissing your soft skin. "Did I do good?" he asked, watching as you looked up at him and nodded. "Mhmm~ it felt s'good, still feels s'good. Don't pull out yet, please." you begged, looking up at him with pleading eyes as he looked back down at you. Thoma's face reddened as he buried his face in your hair and sighed.

"If you insist, my love."

Diluc

You woke up slowly next to your husband, watching as he stirred slightly in his sleep and pulled you close to him as he continued to sleep. Diluc mumbled your name sometimes in his sleep, which you adored very much. His hair tended to stick to his face, and got messy from him moving around a lot when he slept. However, he also had a tendency to sleep with almost nothing on, sometimes going to bed completely undressed, because his Vision made his body run warmer than most. You didn't complain about it though, you loved it whenever he held you close and warmed you up.

Diluc had gotten back late last night, and only had time to shower and dry himself off, before all but dragging himself to the bed and falling asleep next to you. He didn't have any work to do today or for the next two weeks, since it was the time for the Windblume Festival to arrive again. You had made a new pair of gloves for him after he wore out and tore his old ones, and planned to give them to him today, but after seeing him look so peaceful, you decided against waking him up. Unfortunately, he was a light sleeper, and soon peeked his red eyes open before catching sight of you awake in his arms. He often worked himself to the brink of collapse, but he always worked very hard, and you respected that very much. You loved that he wanted to help people, but sometimes, he put too much on the line for people you didn't think deserved his kindness, help, or his time. You were willing to admit that you were selfish in this regard, because if there was one thing you were always lacking, it was time with him.

"Good morning, my love, did you sleep well last night?" he asked, reaching for your hand and gently bringing it up to his lips. He gently kissed your knuckles, pulling you close to him as you giggled softly, a heartwarming sound to his ears. "I did, and you?" you asked, wrapping your arms around his neck and snuggling up to him as you shivered from the cold. "Are you cold? I'm sorry I didn't notice before now." he apologized, causing you to shake your head. "You can make it up to me by warming me up now." you proposed, intertwining your leg with his as you brought your hand up to gently cup his face. His cheeks burned red as he looked at you. You undressed and threw your nightclothes on the floor, pushing him onto his back as you spoke. "You've been working so hard, always attending to the needs of others, but what about yourself? You need to take care of yourself as well, Diluc. So, this morning is about you, since it is customary to give your lover something during the Windblume Festival. And I think that this is far better than any other gift you can give me." you said, leaning down and kissing him again. You pulled away and saw the way he was looking at you, his red eyes filled with pure love and adoration you knew he only ever held for you. "Please." he whispered, gently grabbing at your thighs as he spoke. "I could spend more time teasing you, but you've been through enough lately, haven't you?" you asked, causing him to nod. Diluc's grasp on your hip was firm when he slowly slid into you, his fingers reflexively digging into the skin slightly as he kept pressing into you. His grip only loosened when he was fully sheathed inside of your tight cunt, holding you close to him as you slowly adjusted to the stretch. "Mmh~ sorry if it hurts." he groaned, rolling his hips against yours as he dragged against your velvety walls. "Hah~ s-stay still. I'm the one- ah~ taking care of you here, remember- hnng~!" you moaned softly, balancing on your forearms as he looked at you. You slowly sat up and gently pressed your palms against his chest as you started bouncing on him. You rocked against him, feeling his tip hit your cervix and his shaft drag against your sweet spots. "Please let me- ngh~ let me help, I wanna make you feel good, too." he whispered, threading his fingers with yours as he thrusted his hips up to meet your bounces. You tightened around him, before nodding softly. He slowly sat up and pulled you close to his chest, his hands smoothing down your hips before he started moving them for you. He felt you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your lips against his as he twitched inside of you. "F-feels s'good, 'Luc, wanna stay like this with you forever. Feels s'deep- ahn~!" you cried out as he sped up, leaning in close and pressing his lips against your neck before biting down on the spot where your neck and shoulder met. He could feel you clamping down on him as his eyes rolled back slightly, but he refused to lose himself to pleasure just yet. He wanted you to cum first, and only then would he think of his own needs. Well, he did, until you spoke again. "Please stay in, lemme feel you inside, wanna feel you in my tummy- ahhng~!" you whined softly, before feeling him roll you over to where you were beneath him. He couldn't help the swell of satisfaction in his chest when the first few tears in your eyes fell, catching them with his thumbs as he kissed you. "As you wish, dearest." he whispered, watching as you shivered and sobbed his name when you came, trembling beneath him and squirting all over him. He came not too long after, pressing his hips as close as he possibly could to make sure none of his cum could slip out. "Shh, you did so good for me, dearest." he felt you start clenching around him, squeezing him tightly as your gooey walls milked him. "Hnn~ fuck you're always so good to me." he whispered, holding you close as you clung onto him. "Sweetest thing on the face of Teyvat is you, and nothing else." he whispered, a love-drunk smile on his face as he rolled over onto his back and kissed your lips.

This truly was the perfect morning.

Childe

Childe's eyes opened slowly as pale sunlight peeked through a crack in the curtains where they met, hitting his face directly as you slept soundly in his arms. Last night was a long one, and filled with his whispered declarations of love for you, and the noises of your lovemaking. Although he occasionally liked to play it rough, he hadn't been back in Snezhnaya for quite some time, and you'd missed him dearly while he was away. The only reason he was back was because of the preparations that had to be made for Signora's funeral, but he'd arrived back a few days earlier than anticipated, and that was fine by him. He was grateful for the extra time he got to spend with you now, and he was very willing to show it.

Childe was broken from his trance when he felt your body stir against his, looking down and seeing you open your eyes slowly to gaze up at him. "Ajax, you're still here." you breathed, pulling him close to kiss him. His lips slotted perfectly against yours, and you used the opportunity to push him onto his back and start streddling him. "What's the matter? Couldn't get enough of me last night?" he asked teasingly. You tangled your fingers in his ginger hair and tugged on it lightly as you kept kissing him. "I don't think I'll ever get enough of you." you whispered, causing him to smirk at you. "Careful, those are some dangerous words you're saying. I don't know if I'll be able to keep my hands off of you if you keep talking like that." he said, causing you to giggle softly. You leaned in and nibbled on his earlobe. "What if I don't want you to, hm?" you asked.

Your words flipped a switch in his brain that told him to pin you down and make you eat those words. "If you insist, lyubov'." he said. In an instant, he had flipped you over to where he was on top of you and you were on your stomach. "Tell me if it hurts, ok?" he asked, his voice suddenly much softer than it had been mere seconds ago. "Mhm." you hummed softly, before gasping when he slid two fingers into your wet cunt, scissoring them to stretch you out. "Ajax- ngh~!" you jolted slightly, your hips pushing back against his hand as you grinded your hips against his fingers. "That's it, just like that. I promise, I'll take good care of you, girlie, just leave it all to me." he said, adding another finger and curling them to hit your sweet spot as he leaned down and kissed your neck. "HAh~ please- nmm~ please lemme cum- ahH~!" you gripped the sheets and pleaded softly, causing him to huff in fake annoyance before he spoke. "Alright, I guess I'll let you." he said, moving his hand much faster now. Your grip on the sheets tightened as you got closer to your orgasm, a loud whine escaping your lips as you tightened around his fingers and came.

You were about to relax when you felt him pressed up against your entrance, and looked back at him to see that he was smirking. "Don't tell me you're tuckered out from just that. I still have to cum, and you did say that you didn't think you'd ever get enough of me. How about we test that, yeah?" he asked, causing you to nod softly as your face reddened. He slid in slowly, not wanting to cause you any unnecessary pain, and let himself rest against you as you adjusted to his size. "Tell me when I can- shit- when I can move, ok?" he asked, his deep cerulean eyes trained on you as you nodded, signifying that you'd heard him. You waited a few minutes before pushing your hips back against his, gasping softly as you clenched around him tightly. “Mnh~ Ajax, move please.” You begged, feeling him start to slowly move. He got back on his knees and rocked his hips against yours, his tip knocking up against your cervix as you whined and moaned softly. He leaned down and gently grabbed your hands, biting his lip as you melted into his touch. He reached down and grabbed one of your legs, tugging you against him as he grunted softly. You rolled your hips against his slowly, but he refused to let you move as he pinned you down and started moving. "I wanna take care of you, girlie, so don't move too much, ok?" he asked. You mindlessly nodded as he started fucking into you slowly, not wanting to ruin the peaceful atmosphere that the morning had given the two of you. "Mmm~ Such a good girl, yeah? Take it all, pretty thing." he whispered, his voice, deep and demanding, caused your sensitive body to shiver slightly. "Aww, is my pretty girlie still cold? Don't worry, I'll warm you up and make you feel nice and f-fuck- full." he groaned, his eyes rolling back as his spongy tip hit your cervix and caused you to clench around him. "I love it when you're like this, so- ngh~ soft and warm and- hnn~ tight. I just wanna stay inside of you forever- ah~!" he moaned, hitting the spots that made you see stars. "Ajax, m'gonna- ahhn~ m'gonna cum again- ahHNg~!" you buried your face in the sheets and wailed his name as you came. Ajax groaned loudly as he grabbed your hips and harshly tugged them against his, fucking you through your orgasm as you wrapped your legs around his waist. "Hnng~ You sure you want it inside- hAHn~?" he asked, causing you to look back at him and nod through teary eyes. "Mhmm~ Wanna be so full. Wan' you to fuck me f-full- nghaa~!" You were cut off by him shoving his cock deep inside of your fluttering cunt and cumming, rocking his hips against yours as he reached for your hands and held them in his own. "ahhnm~ Good girl, just like that. I can feel you milking me dry. Do you feel warm now?" he asked, his voice teasing as you huffed softly and buried your face in the sheets again. After a few more minutes, he rolled you over to face him and sat up with you in his arms. "Do you wanna get in the bath together?" he asked, causing you to nod softly. "Mhmm, stay with me, please?" you asked, causing him to nod. "Of course, lyubov', do you want me to clean you up?" he asked, receiving a soft nod from you in response. You watched as he sighed, nodding softly before he pulled out slowly. You sighed softly, hiding your face in his shoulder. "Ok, come on, you look exhausted." he said, picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom. He always took care of you, and you were oh so grateful for it this morning. "Perhaps we can have another round when you're up for it." he whispered, causing you to tense up against him as he dried you off. "Your choice, lyubov'." he whispered, laughing when you swatted at his chest as he laid down in bed with you once more. You relaxed in his arms and dozed lightly while he held you close to him, his head on top of yours as he dozed off with you.

Alhaitham

Alhaitham is a lazy individual in the morning, especially when said mornings consist of you. He didn't know he could fall so deeply in love with a person like you, but here he was, the morning after his one year wedding anniversary with you, laying beside you and blissfully naked. He reached out and brought you closer, wrapping you up in his arms and burying his face in your neck as you slept. This caused you to stir in your sleep, before opening your eyes as he kissed your neck repeatedly. "Careful, we might just have to continue last night if you keep doing that." you muttered, causing him to chuckle softly. He then pulled away from your neck and gazed down at your flushed face as he spoke, looking into your (E/C) eyes with all the love and adoration you think you've ever seen in anyone's gaze. "I love you." he whispered, caressing your cheek as you leaned into his touch. "Shouldn't you be getting up? I thought you had work today." you said. "I think the Akademiya can survive without me for a day." he muttered, hiding his face in your neck. "Mmh, but I thought that you had work." you observed, causing him to shake his head as you stretched. "Are you sure you want to get up? It's pretty cold this morning, you know." he looked at you as you huffed a laugh. "No it's not, this is Sumeru, and there's no way that it can get worse than the winters I've been through in the north. Here, I'll- shit- it's freezing!" you had thrown the covers off of yourself, but immediately bundled up under them again when you felt how cold it was. "Why is it so cold this morning? We're in a tropical climate, we should be sweating." you muttered, snuggling up against him. "Sweating from the heat or sweating from sex?" he asked, causing your face to redden as you glared at him. "Only kidding, unless that's an invitation to ravage you more than I did last night.” He said, bringing you closer to him and pressing his lips against yours. “Mmn~ only if you go slow this time. You were very rough last night.” you said, watching as Alhaitham’s eyes widened slightly. “Apologies, I didn’t know you didn’t like it.” He said, suddenly much quieter than before. “Oh, no, that’s not why I’m saying that. Last night was wonderful, I’m just saying that I’m still a bit sensitive is all.” you explained, causing him to nod. "Well, seeing as you're up for it." he said, gently pinning you down against the bed as he spoke. "We can stop if it gets to be too much for you, alright?" he asked, causing you to nod softly. "Ok." you mumbled.

His hips rolled against yours slowly as he lavished your neck with gentle kisses. You never thought him to be such a romantic before getting into a relationship with him, but then again, he was a man full of surprises. Alhaitham had his hands on your hips as he groaned softly, feeling your legs wrap around his waist as he rocked you against him. "HAh~ Mng~ right there- aHhn~ please, 'Haitham~" you whimpered softly, hiding your face in his shoulder. He looked down at you and linked his hands with yours, watching as you sighed softly against his neck and melted into his touch. You thrust your hips upwards against his, meeting his thrusts with the same force as he grunted softly. "You're making it really hard to- ngh~ to hold back, y'know." he murmured, sighing softly. "Nnh~ 'Haitham, s'big- ahhn~!" you were babbling praises at this point, unable to think straight from the overwhelming stimulation your body was receiving. "M'gonna- hnng~ AHhn~!" you locked your legs around his waist as he brought you closer to the edge. "Go ahead, let go, I've got you." he whispered, holding you close as you reached up and tangled your fingers in a mess of silver hair, dragging him down to press your lips against his as you came. He kept going, half lidded teal eyes gazing down into your own as he pressed his hips against yours. "Shh, s'alright, I've got you." he groaned softly as he came tumbling over the edge into bliss with you, holding you close as the two of you rode out your highs together. Alhaitham kept you close as he slowly came down, looking down at you as he spoke. "I'd say, personally, that I'm pretty warm now, what about you?" he asked, chuckling when you laughed softly. "You're the worst." you murmured, looking up at him. You put a hand against his chest and laid down on his chest, your breathing slowing slightly as you relaxed in his arms. "Yes, I'm much warmer than before." you mumbled sleepily. Just as you were about to fall asleep, you and Alhaitham heard someone banging on the door. He scowled as your face reddened from embarrassment, hiding your burning cheeks against the warmth of his chest as you both heard a voice on the other side of the door. "Hey, keep it down! I pulled an all-nighter last night, and I can't get a proper rest when all I can hear is the two of you going at it like rabbits! Keep it down next time!" Kaveh shouted. "If you don't like the noise, the streets are another option you could consider!" Alhaitham shot back, smirking when he heard his roommate's frustrated grumbles on the other side of the door. He settled down under the covers with you once again, looking at you and slowly falling back into the clutches of sleep as he pulled you close to his chest once again. After all, this all started because you were cold, right?

Arataki Itto

It usually got cold during Inazuma’s winters. You were very thankful for your lover for this reason. Itto was like a heater, warming you up quickly and keeping you warm to the point of overheating sometimes. At present, you were waking up after a long night of hanging out with him and the rest of the Arataki Gang. You were considered an honorary member, and the gang’s medic of sorts. Your Vision allowed you to heal people, which came as a great surprise to Genta and Mamoru. Akira and Shinobu and, of course, Itto, already knew. Regardless, you were sometimes left behind whenever they went into town, but Shinobu always promised that she’d make sure everyone was safe at the end of the day.

You slowly opened your eyes and rolled over, coming face to face with your sleeping boyfriend. He had an arm over your waist, his other arm serving as a sort of pillow for you. You knew it was numb from lack of circulation by now with how long you've probably been laying down on his arm, but he probably didn't care all that much. You slowly traced the red Oni markings on his chest, a habit you'd picked up after the many times he'd fallen asleep shirtless next to you, which still happened quite often. You pushed yourself up onto your forearms and sat up, shivering and immediately getting back under the covers when the cold hit your skin. Your movements woke up your boyfriend, whose eyes cracked open and caught sight of you shivering. "Hey, what's goin' on? Are you cold?" he asked, his raspy morning voice hitting your ears and causing you to laugh. "C'mere, I'll warm you up." he offered, pulling you close and wrapping his arms around you as you spoke. "With how warm you are, I should tell everyone to call you Arataki Heat-o, since you're so warm." you mumbled, giggling as you rested your head on his chest. He huffed, poking your cheek before rolling over and pinning you down against the bed as he spoke. "You makin' fun of me? Huh?" he asked, staring you down. He had yet to notice his knee between your legs, or the fact that in this position, you were completely at his mercy with your wrists pinned over your head. It was only when your face reddened and you shuddered under his gaze that he noticed what was going through your mind. "Ohoho, so that's what's going on in that pretty little head of yours, is it, sweetheart? Is that how you wanna be warmed up?" he asked, causing you to look to the side to try and hide your embarrassment. "Hey, what's got you lookin' away all of a sudden? Look at me." he coaxed, smiling down at you when you nervously looked back up at him. You could tell he wanted you just by looking at him, his gaze almost carnal as he stared you down like a feast for a man starved. "Say it, sweetheart, just say the word, and I'll make you feel so good, I promise. You can even nod if you want to." he whispered, pressing his lips hotly against your neck. Your face heated up as he spoke, his gaze intense as he stared at you, but you nodded wordlessly, telling him what he needed to know.

"You wanna take it slow this morning?" he asked, causing you to nod again. "Alright, we can do that." he reassured you, cupping your face with one of his hands. "I wanna make sure you feel good." he muttered. Usually, outside of the bedroom, he was the center of attention, with all eyes on him and all heads turned in his direction. That all changed when it came to you. He wanted to please and praise you, and he would make everything about you if he could. This was one of the things he usually made about you, and you were happy to oblige his wishes so long as his requests of you in return weren't too outlandish. Itto pulled back and slid his sweatpants off, throwing them on the floor before moving on to help you undress. He threw your nightclothes and undergarments on the floor before leaning down and kissing you, sliding his warm palms up the expanse of your thighs. He lightly dug his nails into your skin, kissing from your lips to the curve of your jaw and down your neck. Your breath hitched and a quiet gasp fell from your lips at the sensation of his sharp fangs digging into the skin of your shoulder as he bit down. He sucked at the skin and left several more bite marks all over your chest. He spread your legs and dragged himself over your slit, causing you to shiver. “You ready, pretty girl?” He asked, receiving a nod in response as you reached up and grabbed his shoulders. “Mhmm~” you hummed, tensing up as he slowly pushed the tip in. He kept you pinned down against the bed as he rocked his hips against yours, panting softly. “Hnn~ it h-hurts.” You whined, reaching up and tangling your fingers in his hair. You tugged at the white strands when he went deeper, yelping softly as his tip grazed against your cervix. He bottomed out after a few minutes, groaning softly as he kept himself still. You pulled him down and pressed your lips against his, tilting your head to the side slightly. He waited for you to adjust, slowly rolling his hips against yours once he was sure you would be alright. “Look at you, pretty girl, you’re s’good for me. Jus’ keep takin’ me like this, please.” He whispered, his sharp nails digging into your hips as he started to slowly thrust into you. He let go of your hips as he pressed his forehead against yours, sliding his hands up to hold yours. “Ahh~ mngh~ Itto, please- nnm~!” He grabbed one of your legs and lifted it over his shoulder, giving him access to a deeper angle. His tip bumped up against your cervix as your back arched and you pressed your body against his. Itto held you still by keeping a firm grip on your leg, reaching down with his now free hand to pinch and roll your nipples between his fingers. “Does it feel good? I wanna make sure you feel good, because you make me feel s’good all the time.” He slurred, chuckling softly as you wrapped your other leg around his waist. “You gettin’ close?” He asked, twitching inside of you as you slowly lifted your hips to meet his thrusts. “Mhmm~ please, in, I wanna feel you inside, please.” You whimpered. He looked down at you and noticed the desperate look in your eyes, before gently cupping your face in his hand. “You want me to fill you up? Want me to fuck you full, sweetheart?” He asked, smiling softly as you nodded. He bit his lip and picked up the pace of his thrusts, holding you down as he got closer to his orgasm. “Th-thank you, mmm~ love you s’much- AHhng~ Itto- Hnn~!” You wailed his name as your orgasm hit you full force, shaking against his bed as you came. “Shh, shh, take it jus’ like that, you did so good for me.” He muttered, pressing his hips tightly against yours. You wrapped your leg around his waist and your arms around his neck, kissing him again as he fucked you through your high. He groaned loudly against your mouth as he jerked his hips against yours, pulling away and hiding his face in your neck as he sank his teeth into your skin again. “Mmnh~ good girl, squeezin’ me so- fuck- s’good. You did s’good for me.” He mumbled, wrapping your arms around you as he held you close.

Itto rolled over onto his back, sighing softly as he relaxed. You all but collapsed onto him, leaning against him for support. After a few minutes, he spoke. “Are you alright? Sorry, I kinda got carried away.” He chuckled softly, resting his hand on your upper back. “I’m alright.” You whispered, looking up at him. “You want me to clean you up?” He asked, bracing himself on his forearms. You nodded, whining softly as he slowly pulled out. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” He said, getting up and going to the bathroom to grab a warm damp washcloth to wipe you down with. He cleaned you up slowly, making sure to be as gentle as he could, before putting the washcloth in the bathroom and joining you back in bed. “Lemme hold you for a bit, then we can get up in a little while, ok?” He asked. “Ok, I love you.” You whispered. “Love you, too, sweetheart.” He replied, closing his eyes as he fell asleep.

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queentheweeb · 1 year

Text

Neteyam X Male Omaticaya Reader

A/N: I decided to make the sky people attack years later than they did, such as Neteyam already becoming Olo'eyktan. Also, for the sake of the story, your voice is the male version of Ninat.

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You were preparing for the celebration of Neteyam being crowned Olo'eyktan. His father Toruk Makto had passed it down to him and you couldn't be any prouder for him. You were intimidated more than anything. You had grown up with Neteyam, his family was used to your presence, and at first, you had seen him as a best friend, just a best friend but, once the two of you passed your Iknimaya those feelings changed. You started noticing how the muscles in his back and shoulders flexed when he pulled back his bowstring or when he went hunting with his knives or riding his Ikran. He wasn't the skinny fifteen-year-old with a crooked goofy smile that you fell in love with. He was a man that had his mother's face but, his father's build. He still had his loving, protective streak and was confident. His confidence is one of the things you love about him besides his heart.

"Y/N! I need some help over here." You were brought out of your musings by your friends who were trying to hang up decorations and failing. They always used you for stuff like that because apparently, you have a 'sleeper build' as Jake had said more than once whatever that meant. Neteyam seemed to have approved so you weren't going to question or deny it. You talked with them for a bit as you hung up the decoration in between the branches.

"Do you think he is finally going to choose a mate?" You always hated that conversation and normally didn't participate because the idea of Neteyam choosing someone who was not you made you want to cry and vomit. You couldn't handle him being in love with someone else, you wanted him to love you, you wanted to go on hunts together, fall asleep together, cook, and do each other's hair. You wanted to give him all of you from the best to the worse. You've seen him when he was frustrated when he was upset and needed to put down his strong front. It was not fair for someone else to see him vulnerable when he trusted you and only you.

"Maybe he is? Maybe he already chose one and he is just waiting for tonight to make the announcement?" You felt yourself crinkling the decorations so you moved faster to get away from this conversation. Who could he have possibly chosen? He would have told you! At least you think he would have told you anyway, he trusted you, right?

"There are many women and men he can choose from. He is not short of suitors." That was true. That was a fact you couldn't even deny even if you wanted to. He had so many suitors for being Toruk Makto's firstborn, first son, being one of the youngest to complete his Iknimaya, and simply becoming Olo'eyktan. His personality was short of amazing too, always helping whenever he can, going on hunts and leading parties and even teaching and training others. He was very busy and very loved by his people which in your opinion made him the best candidate for becoming a leader. He was born for this, made for it.

"Do you think he would choose a man or a woman?" You weren't entirely sure because he had flings with both men and women, you have both seen him and heard the stories from him. They were always satisfied but, Neteyam never looked satisfied. It was momentary satisfaction but, he always would seem unfulfilled and refused to talk to you about them, always changing the subject. You wish it was you he chose.

"Enough gossiping, Y/N is almost done with all the chatter you guys are doing." You hung up the last banner and turned to see Jake looming over the others who greeted him hastily, apologized, and scattered to set to work. You fondly rolled your eyes turning to face Jake and greeting him with a smile.

"Hi, Jake." His smile seemed to have brightened and you kept in mind to call him by his name from now on when alone. He always seemed happy to be reminded that he was just a single Na'vi and not someone with such a huge title. You probably would be the same if you were him.

"Hi Y/N, you've been working hard I see." The two of you talked for a bit before he handed you two pretty armbands. "Can you bring this to Neteyam for me, please? He needs to wear them for tonight." You nodded your head knowing he was at his home. He had moved out a while ago and was not that far from you. You bidded goodbye to Jake heading towards Neteyam's home climbing the trees fast seeing his home with a private door on it. Stopping in front you knocked waiting patiently for his soft come in and when it did you entered. He glanced over his shoulder smiling when he saw it was you.

"Ah Y/N!" In a blink of an eye, he had wrapped his arms around you in a hug urging you to wrap your arms around his neck in tandem. You both pulled away and he still had an arm around your waist holding you close as he looked down at you with a soft look. "What brings you here? I thought you were busy decorating." You had to fight to concentrate, hyperaware of the muscles on his arm and the fingers that were ghosted above your hip barely any space in between the two of you. This wasn't the first time he did this but, it was just the two of you here, and with your feelings going awry it felt more intimate. You loved it. "Y/N, I asked you a question." He used his free hand to tilt your face up to him as he stared intensely at you making you nervous.

"I-I came to bring you your armbands. Your dad wanted you to wear them." Mercy was granted as he glanced down at your hands before looking back at you much too quickly.

"Put them on for me, yeah?" You swallowed unable to find words as you separated the two armbands and placed one on each arm, adjusting them so that they were tight but, not too tight. Oh, you would kill to be able to sleep on his chest with those arms around you. "Y/N." You glanced back up at him figuring you were caught and your suspicions were confirmed when you saw a smirk on his lips. You rolled your eyes to hide your embarrassment pressing a palm to his chest to push but, he didn't move at all. You found yourself frowning a bit. Strong bastard. Your ears went up when he grabbed your hand on his chest and squeezed it.

"Teyam what-" You were caught off guard by him pressing a kiss to your lips and you let out a noise of shock. He pressed more firmly moving his hand from yours to hold the back of your neck to manipulate you the way he wants. You found yourself melting into the kiss wrapping both hands around his neck to bring him closer and he hummed approvingly. He pulled away first, his eyes dilated and panting softly.

"Fuck, I wanted to do that for so long." You blinked up at him before pressing your face into his chest to hide. You felt him chuckle as he moved both arms down to your waist. "You're so cute, I always noticed the way you looked at me, the way you took care of me and were there for me ever since we were kids." You said nothing, choosing to listen to this sudden confession. It was as if your dreams were coming true. "I wanted to be good enough for you, I wanted to accomplish everything so you can be proud of me. It was always your eyes I seek, your approval I wanted." You found yourself blinking looking up at him to see him looking down at you with a serene smile.

"You've always been perfect to me, even when you thought you weren't. You've always been enough for me." He blinked letting out a breathy laugh and pressing your foreheads together inhaling each other's scent. This was everything you've wanted, and been dreaming of for years.

"After the ceremony, let's go to the tree of voices...I wanted you for so long, I need to have you for the rest of my life." You blinked in shock looking back up at him. "I am not changing my mind, I've been patient enough, I know you want me as much as I want you. I choose you ma Y/N." You felt your eyes dilate in tandem with his at those words

"As I choose you ma Teyam."

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I'm still getting the hang of writing male readers and if you guys want a part two to this I can make one!

#neteyam #neteyam x reader #avatar x male reader #avatar x reader #neteyam x male reader #x male reader #male reader #navi reader #male navi reader

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maginxlia · 1 year

Text

Starring Tokyo Revengers Men ✰ In November PT 2

Cast Line Up Draken, Takashi, Takemichi, Chifuyu and Taiju

Rated TV-MA

Minors This Isn’t For you

Summary ✰ How some of the Men Endures NNN (No Nut November) and How they Give it to you when Their resolve breaks! Bodies Sweaty, Knees Weak! The Redux!

No pronouns up in here but the Reader has a Kitty

Ken ‘Draken’ Ryuguji

✰ Draken Doesn't give NNN a single thought, why would he deprive himself of you??

✰ Your Soft Walls taking him in after a long hard day of working on Bikes is a treat he can't go without

✰ Only participate in NNN when you suggested it to see how long you two can go without each other touch

✰ All his free thoughts Go to how crazy he going to fuck your pussy when he finally gets his dick inside you

✰ He edges himself every night while thinking about your wet greedy pussy taking him in just the way he likes it

✰ Draken Teasing you by Grinding his heavy dick against you trying to make you break so he can fuck you stupid

✰ You two don't last that long before your clothes come off and your bodies are intertwined together

“Keep your legs just like that” Draken commanded you, your pussy on display for him as you had your legs tucked to your chest

“Its hard to hold Kenny” You moaned as he rubbed his dick between your slick folds, “Mhmm I know it is baby But I want to fuck you deeper” Draken said before he entered you. He already made you cream on his dick three times tonight and with the way his hips are pounding into you he was trying for a fourth

His dick constantly touching deeper into you than it ever did tonight making you go crazy as he fucked you stupid, Draken bought his head down to kiss your lips as you did your best to hold this position

Draken fucked you into the bed like it was the last time he would be fucking you, His dick pounding your soft walls as you mewled against him “Want the neighbors to hear how good I'm fucking My pussy??” Draken said while grinning at you as his fingers found your tender clit making you scream his name louder

His Strong hips pushed his dick deep in your aching walls as your legs shook, “

Fuck. Kenny, so mean” You moaned making him slow his thrusts down, “I'm Mean? You were the one suggesting that we go a month without fucking” Draken said in your ear making you shiver as he went back to fucking you at the pace he was before

Your pussy greedily took every inch he gave to you while tears of pleasure blessed your face making Draken wipe them away with his thumb. His fingers wrapped around your neck as your orgasm came down on you

Your pussy holding his dick tight as you came with all your power, with a few more strong thrusts Draken had came deep in you. He gave two more thrusts to your sore walls before pulling out of you

“Now let me Massage your sore muscles doll,” Draken said as he took your legs into his skilled hands, “ I'll make you feel better” he said as he got to work on you

Lost: November The Fifth

Takashi Mitsuya

✰ Takashi doesn't participate in NNN willingly, he can't help he got a project to work on on the first of November

✰ You know how he can get buried inside of his work instead of being buried deep in your pussy

✰ Practically lives at his studio while working on this design making you needy

✰ What kind of lover would you be if you let your man forget about his carnal needs?

✰ Your lips on his neck as your hands got tangled in his soft hair pulling him away from his design if only for a moment

✰ “Taka how about you work on me for a while?” you moaned into his ear making him smile while his hand found its way into your panties, “Want me to stretch that pretty pussy some yeah? Okay Anything for my muse” Takashi Groaned as you palmed him through his pants

Takashi fucking you on the plush rug of his studio while his hands roamed your body, his mouth sucked your neck leaving hickeys wherever his lips touched you

His dick was driving you into the floor while your hands laid on his toned back “Lose Myself Whenever I am In you but fuck. I don't mind” Takashi Moaned into your ear before gently biting your lobe

His hips shoved his dick deeper and deeper with every single thrust making you moan his name every time he filled you up

Takashi rubbed on your clit making you arch for him as he smiled down at you before grabbing your leg and gently pushing it up so he can fuck you better

“I know you missed this as much as I did, I'm sorry for neglecting you” He grunted as he fucked your G-spot making your eyes roll, “So Pretty all fucked out” He moaned before softly squeezing your right tit and taking your nipple into his mouth moaning around your sensitive bud as he sucked on you

His hips drove his dick deeper as you marked up his back, your pussy squeezing him letting him know you were close to cumming while Your eyes watched his dick enter in and out of you making you get lost in a trance before he grabbed your chin “ Baby, Look in My eyes while you cum” He gently ordered you as you did as you were told

You came around his dick hard while bringing your trembling arms up to hold him close as you screamed his name. your pussy draining his balls as he came in you while He gave you some shallow thrusts before peppering your face with kisses

“You're perfect, You Know that right?” Takashi said while pulling you close to him as he wrapped a blanket around the two of you, “Let's just stay here a while” He said before laying your head on his chest

Lost: November The Eleventh

Takemichi Hanagaki

✰ Poor Michi! Has a bet with Chifuyu and Friends on who lasts the longest during this month

✰ In all honesty he wasn't paying attention, He was too busy daydreaming about how you rode him the night before when he handed Yamagishi the money

✰ Head in his hands as he wept over the fact of losing his cash or not fucking you

✰ His Dick leaking precum the moment you wrap those arms around him and kiss his neck, He's Toast.

✰ Sleeping with a wall of pillows separating you two because he knows if he cuddles with you he'll cum in his pants

✰ Your voice sounds sexier these days and your ass appears fatter?? Takemichi is on his knees bawling and Begging for you to have mercy on him

✰ He loses himself and his willpower the longer he goes without your pussy on him

✰ Takemichi's hands found their way onto your ass as you bent over to pick something off the floor “ I need you So B-Bad right now baby. Let me fuck you please” Takamichi cried into your hair as his hip ground circles against your ass

You were currently moaning into one of the couch pillows while Takemichi fucked you from behind, his hips moving at a pace that made your ass cheeks bounce

“So fucking Pretty. Can't live without being in you” Takemichi moaned while his hands pulled you closer to him, his eyes were locked on your ass and the way your back arched perfectly for him making him whine softly

You feel his tears on your back as he moaned your name “Ahh Feel so fucking Good Around my dick” Takamichi moaned while he rolled his hips into you, his sensitive dick being milked good by your tight pussy

His tongue wetting his lips as he got closer to cumming, Takemichi laid his body weight on you while his hips moved on their own fucking into your pretty pussy deeper as his fingers squeezed your nipples

The couch moved against the floor as Takemitchi took you to your favorite place, your pussy throbbing around him while a string of fucks fell from his lips into your ears as you pushed your man over the edge

Takemichi's body started to shake as he came deep into you. “I love you so much” Takemichi moaned while repositioning so that you sat on top of him, “Can please Ride me?” Takemichi asked as his shaky hands played your chest

Lost: November The Ninth

Chifuyu Matsuno

✰ Chifuyu takes this bet seriously. Yes his balls hurt and his dick is red but it all will be worth it in the end

✰ Chifuyu tells you about the bet while he's knuckles deep in your pussy “Sorry Babe, No Dick Tonight. I got a bet with the guys, I'll fuck you when I win!” He says before latching his lips to your clit

✰ Chifuyu doesn't let up on pleasing you with his tongue and skilled fingers, Leaving you a writhing Overstimulated mess on the bed every night but your pussy feels empty without his pretty dick pounding into you

✰ Your moans punish his dick by making him hard as stone, and the way your eyes lock with his when you cum makes him ready to fuck you stupid

✰ “You make the strongest men weak. So pretty cumming on my tongue” Chifuyu looks up at you with lust swimming in his eyes

Your legs on Chifuyu shoulders as he fucked into you, your pussy making his hips stutter with every thrust he gave to you while his hair fell into his eyes

“Tempting me with your sweet pussy, making me lose My money. Dammit. I was Stupid for Joining that bet knowing I'm weak for you” He grunted while his eyes roll back in pleasure as he made you cum for the fourth time tonight

Your soft walls were doing a number on the poor male as his legs began to tremble with every pulse your pussy gave to him, Chifuyu had to suck your left nipple to stop himself from moaning

His tongue danced around your sensitive bud as his dick beated your overstimulated pussy sore, your nails digging into his skin with every roll of his hips while his fingers rubbed circles on your swollen clit

“Ahh Fuyu. Gonna cum again” You cried while Chifuyu kissed your tears away, “ I want you to cum for me one more time baby,” Chifuyu said while Grinning up at you

His fingers kept the same rhythm as he continued to toy with your clit making you cum hard on his dick, your pussy gripping his orgasm from him as he closed his eyes while hot ropes of his cum poured into you

“Fuck.” Chifuyu said while he pulled out of you letting his dick go in between your folds one final time as his body shivered, “I missed this so much. Now let me get you cleaned up baby” Chifuyu said as he went to start your bath water

Lost: November The Twenty eighth

Taiju Shiba (Bonus)

✰ Taiju laughed at his brother when he suggested a bet on who can last the longest during NNN, After Taiju got his laugh in he handed Hakkai his money and wished him luck

✰ Taiju easily can last a month without fucking you the question is can you handle him when the month ends??

✰ Taiju makes you cum every night by toying with your pussy as you sit on his lap while his thick fingers work you over

✰ He wants you to feel how hard his dick is in his pants so you can know what to expect on the first of December

✰ Lets you tease the fuck out of him. Grind on it all you want but you won't be breaking him in fact it will be you that ends up broken as soon as December comes

✰ “Just Trying to see all the positions I can fuck you in” Taiju grins at you while he gently folds you for a mating press before letting go of you

✰ Right when the clock strikes twelve on the first of December Taiju Unbuckling his pants freeing his Beautiful Dick and Heavy balls “ Hope you're ready to bred” Taiju grunts to you while stroking himself

Taiju Had your ankles in his firm grip as he fucked you senseless. His Body weight pressed you deep into the mattress as the headboard beat a hole into the wall with every thrust he gave to you

How many times has he came in you tonight? Your mind literally couldn't count because he fucked you so dumb, you just know it was more than two.

Your screams of pleasure and his grunts filled the room as your ankles shook in his hands while your pussy pulsed around him but Taiju did not let up as he continued to fuck you through your sixth orgasm of the night

“Feels so good tugging on my dick like a needy whore” Taiju Groaned down to you before sucking on your left nipple as his thrusts got deeper and longer

His hips moving at a rhythm that you could feel him the way he fucking you against your clit making your eyes roll, your nails digging into his legs while you screamed his name brokenly as his dick punished your sore walls

“You feel that?” Taiju asked you while you nodded your head in response to him, “That's me Cumming in you Again” Taiju said his voice breaking as his hips continued their onslaught of pleasure

Taiju didn't even pull his dick out of you as he picked you up and laid you on your belly, he spanked your ass before laying on top of you “Gonna fuck you till my balls are empty and you are filled with my child” Taiju Grunted to you before going back to fucking you

Lasted Till December The First (Winner)

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#draken x reader #ken ryuguji x reader #mitsuya x reader #takashi mitsuya x reader #takemichi hanagaki x reader #takemichi x reader #chifuyu x reader #chifuyu matsuno x reader #taiju shiba x reader #taiju x reader #black writer #Headcanons #anime x black!reader #tokyo revengers x black!reader #tokyo revengers x reader smut #tokyo Revengers x reader #x black reader #tokyo revengers headcanons

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its-actually-minicika · 1 year

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so, feel free totally ignore this if it makes you feel uncomfortable, but I can't stop thinking about a jace x reader fic where reader is sort of dealing with the aftermath of the battle of the gullet.

her and jacerys were involved romantically and when he dies, reader goes berserk and out for blood with the greens: she gets captured eventually and is left to rot in a cell in harrenhall or something, where she talks smack to aemond and reminisces about her time spent with jace...

idk maybe she breaks out and aemond falls in love with her in a reverse-stockholmly way?? it's more like he becomes obsessed and starts taunting her with Vhagar like he did with luke.

or maybe she ends up dying in the cell from exhaustion and all her untreated wounds (because there's no way canon book aemond would ever help the lover of an enemy lmao) and meets jace again in their weird version of westerosi heaven

idk i just need them both so bad lol

The Harshest Winters (!18+!)

Pairing(s): Jacaerys x Reader, somewhat implied Aemond x Reader ??? it's just really fucked up, man;

Warnings: major character death, strong language, mentions of SA, some spoilers for Fire&Blood, book canon Aemond, blood and gore, psychological horror, manipulation, manhandling, mentions and descriptions of sex;

Author's Note: whiew, this was definitely something! Thank you so much for the request, Nonny - I loved diving into this one :") I hope that this is to your liking!!

Part 2 is out now!

She was sentenced to forever remember him by name only - Jacaerys' face would dim with time across her memory, leaving only a distant face in the back of her mind.

As she rots in the coldest pits of Harrenhal, (Y/N) remembers him, day after day and night after night.

"Promise me you'll come back alive." The girl hushed into the quiet war room. Her eyes scanned over the firelit table, traveling to Jace's sprawled out hands and broad form.

His eyes lit up. Brilliant brown hues, filled with so much love for her. His calloused fingers, still trailing over the waters of the Steptstones, that versed well into the Gullet.

"I promise." Jacaerys spoke to her, tone serious and somewhat strained. "My love..." He mused at the notice of her furrowed brows, and took three wide steps towards her.

As his hands reached for her, she leaned into his warm touch, so palpable and real.

The two hugged for what felt like an eternity. The Prince of Dragonstone kissed the crown of her head tenderly, his heart beating in a calming tune, that could have once lulled the woman into the deepest of sleeps.

"You've never lied to me before." She sniffed into his wide chest, pressing herself against him with renowed ferocity. "Do not let this be the first time."

Jace only smiled and cupped her jaw soothingly.

The nights without him were the toughest.

(Y/N) was irritated, on the verge of frenezy - the ghosts of her past played cruel jokes on her health of mind, making her see red before her - his face, whenever she closed her eyes to sleep.

In the three weeks that she spent in the prison cell, after having been captured and enslaved by Aemond, not once had she seen his face apart from their first fated meeting.

How stupid she was, drawing her sword to him, engaging him in a field of falling men.

How could she not see his flock of Green Loyalists, who suddenly came behind her back?

The heavy wound in her lower abdomen and the numbness of her left foot were all her fault. The puss that was dripping from her daft fingers, as well.

At least she had beat the shivers, she told herself insistently. But how long will it be, until she meets the Stranger due to her horrid wounds?

Left all alone, trapped well within those four walls of damp stone, the girl could do nothing but mumble and think to herself:

Aemond Targaryen had fought bravely, she had to at least give him that. Although she too would have had balls of steel atop a dragon - and one not even close to Vhagar's size.

He had granted her the courtesy of letting her die in the pains of cold and hunger - flesh eaten away by the ghastly infection, rotting to a point that had one's stomach churn and wail.

A small tear rolled from her shut eyes, and her jaw clenched tight - no one would come to rescue her, and it was clear as day that even the soldiers who came to guard her cell at night stopped bothering to show up. Perhaps the reek of death proved to be too much for them.

Perhaps they preferred to sit outside, and bask themselves in the fine light and smell of putrid ash.

Perhaps.

Slowly, yet surely, (Y/N) tried to sit up straight, but a blinding pain sent her right on her exposed back again. She hissed from the pressure that her inexperienced bandage applied on her closing wound, but relentlessly tired to get up again and again.

Eventually, she stilled as she got up on her right foot, and leaned into the wall for help in supporting her raw weight.

"Fucking shit, fucking assholes, fucking Greens, nasty cock-suckers, fucking die...!" She sobbed into the breached wall, gripping the stone edges with all her might and heaving out one pained breath after the other.

"I didn't know I was keeping a whore alive, in the stead of a respected Lady." A croaky, albeit mellow voice rang out.

(Y/N) could feel her knee wobble in fear.

She bit her tongue in an attempt to stop her snarl, and steadied herself with her hands still clinging to the wall.

"Kinslayer." She spoke in a brittle voice, and cursed herself for the undeniable softness that was laced in her tone - she was far too weakened to talk to him. And much less to fight once more.

Aemond's nostrils flared, in a weird concucsion of both anger and grief. His jaw tightened as his hand curled into a fist.

"Traitor." He grates out in retaliation, but lets a bemused expression to curl up his lips. His face narrows, and a flicker, a spark of fury dances in his remaining eye.

"You grace me with your presence, Prince Aemond. You really shouldn't have." (Y/N)'s eyes trail to the sword that rests upon his hip, and she can feel her blood turn cold once his feet carry him so awfully close to her defenseless form.

Her chest rises and falls in pent up frustration. Even if she tried to, she couldn't kill him now. But maybe she could gouge out his good eye.

Before her thoughts can come to a close, Aemond cruelly smirks to himself, and unsheats his sword to lower it to (Y/N)'s face. "It's a pity. You've never been a beauty, but now you're rendered to almost completely useless." He tuts lightly, turning her face with each languid movement of his sharp blade.

"I had in mind to let my men fuck you." He remarks dryly, but lets out a disappointed sigh. "But I don't think any of them would get it up to your whorish face."

His words startle the woman, and her eyes widen in disgust, as her throat tightens in and over itself.

"No... A look so wild and a grisly body such as this are better suited for dogs than men."

(Y/N) is shaking with fear and rage alike. She takes in a deep breath, and closes her eyes to listen.

He's bluffing. This is a test. This is a challenge. And either way, he has a sword. He could cut you up in a thousand little red ribbons of flesh if you uttered the wrong word.

The girl repeats the same mantra in her head, and swallows thickly. Soon, very soon he will get bored of taunting her.

But why? Why, why come now? Why pay her a visit after weeks of captivity?

He wants you to do something for him, in exchange for fresh air and a clean set of clothes, a small voice inside her head whispers to her.

Aemond hums wistfully and brings a hand to play with her house's crest, that rests atop her caved chest in a twisted necklace.

"You are Elmo Tully's only daughter." He asserts calmly, and reaches to twirl around her darkened strands of hair. "The Lord of Riverrun pledged his banners to that withered cunt because of you."

His eyebrows raised in mock surprise, and his sword came to a halt below her jaw. Attentively, he grazed her skin with the hilt of it, paying attention not to break in a single cut.

"But now... there's no reason for them to fight on her side, is it? You're ours to spare or kill, and your bastard lover boy is rotting in the sea."

His words sparked a fire inside the girl's soul. Without thinking, she took a step forward, and gripped her hand atop his over the hilt of the sword. In just a second, her free hand had found a way to his pale face.

The aftermath of the loud slap echoed throughout the dark room, and Aemond grabbed the lady by the hair, bringing her to her knees with a strong, downward pull.

"I will put a muzzle on you if you don't behave, tie you down and feed you to Vhagar, but not before I berate you in front of everyone still alive from the Twins to Harrenhal."

A small whimper escapes her lips, and the One Eyed prince gives her one last harsh tug, before freeing her dirty locks.

"Look at the mess you've made." He chastises with a click of his tongue, bringing his grimy hand to her face again. "You dirty fucking whore, I should make you lick me clean."

His furious stare melts into an amused one, and Aemond the Kinslayer laughs.

"I bet you would love that, wouldn't you?" He cooed while glancing down at her, forcing a finger into her resisting mouth. "You've been Jacaerys' slut for so long, haven't you? Wouldn't you like to be fucked by a real man, too?"

Aggravated by his running mouth and exherted by all her remaining patience, (Y/N) bit down on his fingers, hard, drawing a metallic taste in her mouth and a guttural groan from Aemond.

"I thank you for your gentle offer. But I heard you're already busy enough with that - fucking a bastard of your own in the darkness of these cursed halls."

The Targaryen prince clasped her by the arms tightly, pulling the girl up on her feet and snarling in her face.

"For that, I will give you your brothers' heads."

"Mayhaps they will give me yours."

Aemond's hands would leave her bruised. Of that much, she was certain.

Another permanent reminder of his abuse on her, she mused, letting out a pained sigh.

She grazed the bottom of her lower lip, immersed in deep thought.

Aemond wouldn't kill her. At least, not until the last of her purpose ran up. He might have had Harrenhal secured, but that meant little to his usurper brother and the capital, especially when the Reach provided them with no other allies.

Aegon's cause needed her. They desperately needed her alive, to strike up a deal with her sickly grandfather, and convert both houses Frey and Tully to their side.

Family.

Duty.

Honour.

Her grandfather would do anything to ensure her safety - that much was, again, for certain.

And if Aemond wanted to win this thing, he wouldn't touch a single hair on her delicate head - he couldn't afford to set off the Riverlords.

Having said that, (Y/N) wasn't surprised when the maesters came flooding in, or when her clothes were changed and her bed replaced.

What did surprise her were Aemond's visits - after their initial clash, he came by her cell more and more often.

Sometimes he would speak to her. Ask her about the gravity of her wounds, if she found the lack of light scary. If any soldier made to guard her had talked to her or made her uncomfortable.

Those were what (Y/N) grew to call his "good days".

Most of the time, Aemond would come to her well into the dead of night, scaring her and making her lose sleep for days at a time.

He would apologize with a small quirk of his head, and simply stare at her. Stare for what felt like hours, until he would hum, satisfied, and make his leave.

It was during one of those latter visits that (Y/N) finally spoke:

"Has my grandfather turned his banners? Did he send any lease for me?"

Her question, although innocent enough, angered Aemond. He rose to his feet, eyes wide in ire, and he punched the wall of the prison cell - hard.

"From this day onward, you'll sleep in a chamber more fit for a Lady." He hoarsely muttered over his shoulder, as he made his way up the twisted set of stairs. "Soldiers will escort you tonight. Tomorrow, a maid will bathe you."

Although hid from her field of vision, the Tully girl heard how his footsteps came to a halt. The One Eyed Prince clasped his fists painfully, and gritted lowly:

"If you try to escape, you'll meet your end by the way of my blade, My Lady."

The night Lady Tully stepped outside of her prison cell was supposed to be one of the happiest of her entire life.

At the very least, the girl found the night sky to be of a comforting beauty - and the lack of sunrays would be good for her eyes, that got so used to the engulfing darkness of the Dungeons.

Still, she couldn't wait to see the sun.

... Her contentment was short lived - as soon as the smell of ash and blood had hit her nose, the girl almost collapsed.

No matter where she looked, she saw only the bites of fire. Where it spread - over the fertile lands she loved so well -, it left dust and cinder in it's wake.

Her home was ruined.

The fields she used to play in... gone.

The grief and anger replaced the sadness and despair. (Y/N) felt herself shake to the core, and, as she was dragged to the highest tower in the Harrenhal Keep, she swore to kill Aemond for what he'd done.

Yet, a much merrier resolve was going on back and forth in Aemond's chamber, who, after his interaction with (Y/N), was left very wanting and more than frustrated.

Alys was writhing beneath him, mewling in pleasure at his rough touch and merciless pace. Her dark hair was sprawled all over the goose feather pillows, covering her face and lustful stare.

"Mmhh, faster... faster!" She urged him with a breathless moan, moving her hips in unison with his, meeting his thrusts half-way.

Aemond groaned, holding her firmly by the nape of her neck, and closing his lilac eye tightly. His loins were begging for release - a release that was coming very hard to him.

Thoughts that disassociated him from what was happening at present surged through his mind: what he would have to do tomorrow, where he would have to take Vhagar.

Did (Y/N) reach her room yet?

The latter of them sent a pleasant shiver down his spine - with renewed vigour, Aemond pounded into the woman under him. He had found the lead towards his release, and he was not about to let it go.

Images of (y/h/c) replace the dark whisks of hair on Alys' head - her soft skin, her beautiful (y/e/c).

(Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N)...

His member twitches urgently inside of Alys, and Aemond continues to defile the Tully girl in his mind, imagining how her face would twist in pleasure as he slowly entered her.

He would be gentle. So, so gentle - he would make her into a babbling mess, so numb from bliss, that her legs would shake around him. He could be selfless with her, find his high only after he was satisfied with the orgasms he pulled from her.

Aemond moaned loudly once he felt Alys tighten around him, and soon spilled out his seed, panting wildly.

Finally, he opened up his eye, and felt the disgust and dissatisfaction that came after his mind-blowing release.

How could he, the Prince Protector of the Realm, think of his nephiew's lover during sex? That ugly, headstrong and frogish looking girl - making the Crown Prince lose his mind in want and lust.

Shit.

He had to see her.

He had to touch her.

He had to have her.

He craved to feel her - even if she were to slap him as she did months ago; he would take anything she gave him. And he would enjoy it tremendously.

Aemond sighed, still planted deep above Alys - he peeled himself from her lean arms, and rolled his shirt back and over his head. Next were his trousers, shoes and leather tunic.

"Where are you going, my love...?" Alys whispered, pressing her naked body on his working back.

Aemond hums expectantly, and turns his body to trap the woman in between the cold wall and his budging arms. He brings his hand out to caress her skin, toying with one of her breasts, until he pushes her roughly against the wall and pulls her by the hair.

"I told you not to call me that" He muses coldly, letting go of the fistful he grabbed mere seconds ago. "We talked about our arrangement, Alys." He tuts lightly, grazing her jaw with his long index finger.

Aemond sighs and lets go of the caged woman, as he straightens his back and begins walking towards the door.

"I want you on the bed, with your legs spread waiting for me. I won't be too long."

Curse Aemond and his meticulosity, the young lady chastised inside her head. The tower in which she was supposed to spend the rest of the war - or however long Aemond wished her to, really - was at the highest level possible. There was no way for her to jump out the window and survive the fall.

But, should there be a need for it... death by falling wasn't the worst of fates. If you managed to break your neck, that is.

A shuddering thought, (Y/N) scorned herself, and not one she could afford at the moment.

Jacaerys was dead - and part of her would be lost with him forever. Above all else, she wanted to feel his soft kiss again, his strong arms protecting her, his gentle caress that never failed to give her butterflies.

One day, she would find him again. One day, they'll reunite, and be back together - as the Gods intended to.

But that day was still far away.

She prayed her grandfather hadn't turned his banners against Rhaenyra's cause. She hoped that her family was safe, and that Riverrun didn't suffer the same fate the fields near Harrenhall had.

Jacaerys was dead. But above all else, she had to stay alive. Fulfil his wish, take care of both their families, until she could allow herself to rest.

Her shaky hand reached for her eyes. She had been crying.

The dirt on her cheeks must have washed away, leaving streaks of her paling skin to poke behind.

She would avenge him. She would avenge them all. Even if that was the last thing she ever did.

The brisk opening of her chamber door made the girl jump in place and turn rapidly on her heel.

Behind the oak aperture, a head of shoulder-lenght silver hair could be seen, followed by a pair of untrusting violet eyes.

"Didn't your mother teach you never to enter a lady's room without knocking first?"

The reprimantion left her lips before (Y/N) could catch herself.

She had to remember that no matter how much Aemond needed her, he was still quick to anger - a true prince of the Blood of the Dragon. Brazen, relentless, cruel.

She was a first daughter, yes. But a third child, coming after two strong boys, that hence secured the Tully line from before she was even born.

He was a man. She was a weakened woman. They were near a window at a plenty ample height, and even she had heard what happened to Queen Helaena.

His footsteps approached her slowly, like a predator would it's prey. It took everything inside the girl to stay put in place, fighting his empty stare with her own.

"It's cold outside." Is all Aemond said, before he strutted towards the open window and closed it back up again.

A myrriad of questions were on her mind. But 'Why are you here?' was replaying the most.

Her back was turned on Aemond. (Y/N) was frozen in place and, although she knew how dangerous it was not to look at him, she feared that a singular look of the man who played a part in killing the love of her life would be far too much.

Seconds turned to minutes. And minutes felt like they were turning to hours.

Before long, Aemond let out a low hum and grabbed a piece of her modest gown with two of his fingers.

"I'll have a nightgown be made for you tomorrow." The Targaryen prince concluded, gingerly letting go of her sleeve.

Without another word, he turned his body stiffly, and walked towards the doors that separated her from the outside world. As they closed and clicked with the turning of a key, the girl let out a relieved sigh, and quickly glanced upon the floor.

"Fuck you, you fucking piece of shit, you Gods' damned fucking asshole." She hissed in utter resentment, snarling at the place the one eyed prince once stood.

At least the promise of the morrow could bring forth a better day.

If she ever wanted freedom, she had to make Aemond trust her. But that was easier said than done. And it would take time.

So far, he had taken her outside twice - both times, during nighttime. To not be seen by anyone, and to be able to walk with the Prince without being perturbed or interrupted by keen eyes and weary mouths.

They walked in silence: neither knowledgeable enough in the other to know what to converse about.

And as they made their third and final round of the garden, the girl took in a deep breath, and whisked her skirts gently to one side.

Aemond, like all the other nights before that, escorted her himself back to her secluded chambers, but stopped abruptly at her door.

"Where is your bretheren?" Aemond demanded to the knight assigned to watch over (Y/N) coldly.

His body stiffened momentarily, until a muffled voice could be heard past his helmet. "He went outside to take a piss." Sensing Aemond's stillness at his words, he added hurriedly, "Your Grace."

Unconvinced, yet unwilling to press the matter further, Aemond hummed, and opened the door, to allow the woman to step inside.

Like all the other nights before that, he stepped inside as well, to stare at her and later leave himself to rest in his own right.

(Y/N)'s hands were tightened in fists, and the woman strutted to her bed to play with the silk bedding.

"Thank you for bringing me here. You're... so very kind." She forced herself to say the words that left such a bitter taste in her parted mouth.

For a while, Aemond seemed stunned. He felt his jaw clench in anticipation for her next words. His eyes trailed over her, mesmerised by her tempting form, so meek and small and perfect.

Had she always been so beautiful?

"Hmm." He purrs from deep inside his throat, unable to form any other sentence. His lilac orb being glossed over with something akin to fear and lust - how could such a lowly girl spark such a consuming feeling within him?

The tightness inside his trousers becomes unbearable, and Aemond can feel his palms gripping over his thighs.

"Well..." (Y/N) finally turns to face him, biting her inner cheek. "G... Good night, Prince Aemond."

He takes in a sudden breath, and has to restrain everything inside him not to walk towards her and take her over the mattress.

But she was still a Lady. And he had to be patient. There will be more than enough time for that, he told himself pleasingly.

Still, his cock twitched into the confining space, and the girl had to stop herself from gagging at the sight.

Men were really just mindless beasts, after all. Yet she had to at least be thankful - she now knew for certain she wasn't indifferent to him. There were worse things to be working with than lust.

Lust was better than ire. Lust was better than... nothing.

"Good night, Lady (Y/N)." Aemond's groggy voice echoed through the empty room.

Seemingly satisfied with what he told her, the Targaryen Prince shot her body one last hungry gaze, before leaving to hold her under lock and key.

A minute, maybe two pass, until the girl's body can relax into the soft bed. Her eyes go over the ceiling, and she starts recounting her steps.

A sudden click of armour alerts her of what is going on outside - she shifts and turns, eyes fully on the door.

Had Aemond come to her again?

Dread seeped into her veins. Had he come to rape her? Use her? Or perhaps he grew tired of playing host, and was ready to kill her.

Not sparing another second, she swiftly jumped back on her feet, and reached for a candle holder, clasping it tightly within her hand.

Her breathing accelerated, until... the shining helmet of the knight outside greeted her tentatively, instead of the terrifying white hair she'd grown accustomed to.

"My Lady!" He breathed out, relieved, and hurriedly showed her his face.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and hot drops of tears suddenly threatened to escape them.

"Ser... Ser Cain? Is that really you?"

"Aye, my Lady, in the flesh." He remarked happily, closing the door, before (Y/N) surprised him by running towards her sworn protector, with an embrace that could shatter stone.

"I thought you dead after the battle at Tumbletown...!" She hushed into his chest, swaying him from side to side.

"It should take them more than usurping bastards to kill me!" Cain Waters assured her. His body pulled away from hers, and he spoke back in a more serious tone. "I'm here on order of your father. I'll take you to a safe place. But we must leave now."

"How...?" The girl questioned hopelessly, "The Kinslayer is ruthless, and he keeps a close watch on every corner of the keep at all times."

"Not all the time." Cain offered her a reassuring squeeze, smirking slightly. "I have reason to believe he's occupied in his chambers right now."

His attitude turns somber, and he reveals a hood tucked in his breastplate. "Wear this, my Lady. I'll keep guard outside until you're ready - but be quick about it. We'll have plenty of time to talk after we're out of this horrid place."

(Y/N) didn't need to be told that twice - she made great haste dressing up, and, before she could realise it, she was running down the stairs with her heart hammering out of her chest.

She felt as though she was in a trance. Ser Cain knew the castle like the back of his hand - no doubt, her father had been planning her escape for a very long time -, and, by the will of the Gods, the two traveled unspotted to the burnt forest behind the Gates of Harrenhall.

"Our horses are tied here." Cain huffed at the heaviness of his armour. "My Lady, give me your hand."

He mounted the woman on a tiny black horse, and secured her belts in place. He then turned to his own mare, and ensured to tie their bridles together. Before long, both horses broke into a dizzying gallop.

Thus (Y/N) Tully and Cain Waters managed to get lost into the night, right from under Aemond's nose.

The rays of sunlight shone over Aemond's bare form, still entangled with the one of Alys Rivers.

His limbs felt heavy - though none of match to the uneasiness he felt in his heart.

Wordlessly, he peeled himself off the warm body that laid next to him, and dressed up to pay his cherished captive a morning visit.

His dull footsteps bounced in the echo of the war keep, as Aemond's marching came to an abrupt end.

Nothing looked out of the ordinary.

Nothing, save to say for the unguarded door to the girl's chamber.

His blood ran cold, and his hand jerked open the entry to her resting place, only to find it... empty.

There is a scream from deep within that forces it's way from out of his chest. An anger so blinding, that it threatened to burn and extinguish any and all who would dare come his way.

Anger isn't a good look an anyone. But on Aemond One Eye, it looked downright terrifying.

A punch is thrown on the nearest wall to his trembling form. Then another. And another. And another.

Vhagar's mighty roar all but breaks the sky in two - and those who lived to tell the tale swore it echoed throughout all the Seven Kingdoms.

An exaggeration, no doubt, though not the most far fetched one in their bloody story.

The tearing skin of his knuckles lets a numbing feeling wash over Aemond. With his eyes upon the rattled fields, he lets out a low chuckle.

"I'll find her. I'll find her if I have to burn down all of the Riverlands."

They say that everytime a Targaryen is born, the Gods flip a coin.

#jacaerys strong #jacaerys valaryon #jacaerys x reader #yandere aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond imagine #dark aemond #this one is really fucked up lolz #the harshest winters

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softguarnere · 8 months

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Hi! Your writing is amazing! Could you write something Joe Toye x reader or George Luz x reader?

The Rest of the World Falls Away

George Luz x reader

A/N: This is written for the fictional depiction from the show - no disrespect to the real veterans! I feel like I don't have as many fics for Luz as I do for Joe, so I decided to go with him. Thanks for the request, Anon, and I hope you like this! 💕🕊️ Warnings: mentions of war

The airfield is buzzing with energy, like a livewire. Uniformed men dart around in every direction, trying to find all their supplies, trying to get in line for a mohawk, trying to get the grease smeared on their face just right. And trying to find their friends to say goodbyes that hopefully won’t be goodbyes – merely see you later-s or good luck-s.

There seems to be an endless list of things to do, and at the same time, nothing you can do but watch and wait. Standing with your fellow nurses off to the side in front of the tents, you observe the scene around you, trying hard not to think about how some of these men that you’ve gotten to know will not be coming back from this jump. Instead, you keep your eyes focused on the sky.

It’s brilliant, as the British men walking around would say. Warm sunlight lights the area, spilling golden paint over the scene, giving it an angelic look. Even the palest and most nervous of the men regain some of their natural color standing in it, coming back to life. Artists will paint this someday, making them all look strong and shining, like paintings of the Greeks and Trojans preparing for war. Hopefully the artists will get the lighting right.

“Everything ready to go?” Sarah, one of the upper echelon of the nurses, asks for the hundredth time, just to give herself and everyone else something to do. When all of you nod in response, she pushes a sigh through her nose. “Well, nothing to do but wait then.”

You wring your hands as you watch the men. Men with whole lives ahead of them. Men with families back home worrying about them. Men with girlfriends . . .

As if on cue, one of the paratroopers approaches then. He strides forward purposefully, and even beneath all the paint on his face and his mused-up hair, you would recognize him anywhere – especially when he gets close enough to flash you a smile.

“Oh!” One of the other nurses pats your shoulder. The gesture says it all: there’s excitement and jealousy that your beau has sought you out before the Big Jump, but also sympathy because of the risk . . .

The rest of the nurses are probably expecting a show. The last thing you want is for these next few minutes to be a spectacle, though, something that they can replay in their minds whenever they need a bit of drama, or something they can claim as their own years down the road when they need a good story to tell. No, this belongs to you. And to George.

And to no one else, you decide as you step forward to meet him. Gently, you ghost your hand over his elbow, steering him away from the gaggle of nurses, back behind the tents, to a more private area. It’s not like you expect something to happen – there’s no time for anything that anyone would love to gossip about – but if you can be selfish this once, claiming a few moments for yourself, then now is the perfect time.

Once the two of you are away from prying eyes, George takes your hands in his. He holds them, and you squeeze his in turn. You stare at your joined hands, neither speaking; there’s too much to be said, with everything that’s about to happen. It is strange, though, to see George at a loss for words. Who would have thought it possible?

Finally, George shakes his head. “Can’t believe it’s finally here. The Big Jump.”

“I can’t believe we’re getting split up,” you say. “Two years. We’ve seen each other almost every day since Toccoa . . .”

A cruel twist of fate, surely. It had been easy to imagine that you would be one of the nurses chosen to travel to France and establish an aid station. But instead, you’ll be here, in England, waiting.

George runs one of his thumbs along the side of your finger. “Gives me all the excuse I need to get the job done and get out of there.”

You’re long past the point of feeling embarrassed whenever you realize how much George likes you, and how much you like him in return. Still, your heart flutters inside your chest like a butterfly beating its wings against a glass jar; it could soar to new heights if you would let it.

Now seems like the perfect time. You hate slipping one of your hands out of George’s, but you use it to reach into the pocket of your apron and take hold of a small piece of paper. Then you press it into George’s free hand.

“Here,” you say, pressing your token of affection into his hand. “To remember me by.”

The picture had come in a letter from home a few weeks before. It’s the small photograph that had been taken on the day of your graduation from high school. A few years old now, it still looks like you, nevertheless.

George smiles down at it. With care, he stows it away in his jacket pocket, right over his heart. He pats it. “That way you can make the jump with me,” he explains.

Before either of you can say another word, that fateful call echoes across the airfield – the men are being told to get ready to board the planes.

No! That can’t be right! There has to be more time. You have so many things to say, you just need a little more time to figure out how to word them –

“Hey.” George takes your chin in his hands, bringing you to focus on him. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” Beneath his face paint, his eyes look determined. Your own feel wide as saucers.

“Okay,” you agree. Not caring about the grease coating his face, you surge forward and kiss him. For just a moment, the rest of the world falls away. Away from prying eyes, you try to convey everything you want to say in this one kiss: how much he means to you, how you hope he’ll make it back . . . With the sudden rush of activity on the airfield, kissing George is like standing, unbothered, in the eye of a hurricane, safe from the storm.

The kiss breaks and the storm sweeps the two of you up in it. You’ve got to go, both of you. There are duties to be performed. Duties that the outcome of history, the fate of the world, depend upon.

“I love you,” you whisper. It’s only the second time you’ve admitted it.

“I love you, too,” he whispers back. “Will you wait for me?”

“Of course.”

He kisses your hand then, like a gentleman in a novel, as he departs. A smile flashes from beneath his face paint, and then he’s walking away, to the rest of his company, to the planes, to his fate. But every few feet, he glances over his shoulder at you.

There’s probably something that you should be doing. But with all the preparation that you and the other nurses took part in this morning, you doubt there’s anything to keep you distracted. Collecting yourself, you break away from your spot and begin walking back to the tent. As you walk, over all the commotion, you hear a familiar voice that hasn’t quite faded into the distance yet yell, “Hi-ho, Silver!” followed by other men laughing, cheering, and returning the call.

You smile despite yourself. If George is still joking, then everything is going to be okay.

#george luz #george luz x reader #band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #my writing

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milkb0nny · 6 months

Note

Hello lovely.xx I looked around your page and I saw that your request are open. I was wondering if you are open to write something about Halfdan from the series Vikings⚔️. I love the jealous headcanons and some fluffy end maybe but will be happy with absolutely anything that you might get inspiration for. ( If he is not someone you see yourself writing for it’s absolutely fine)

sending hugs and kisses x❤️♥️

Halfdan's Jealousy Headcanons

Halfdan Hálfdansson x gn!reader

Summary: Halfdan's jealousy and fluffy headcanons.

Note: It’s refreshing seeing people appreciating Halfdan. Personally I love him dearly, so thank you for this lovely request. Take care, I hope you like this one (there are way too less Halfdan Gifs out there). 🤍

Warnings: jealousy, distrust, mentions of sexual engagement (not much)

🤎 Halfdan had never anticipated the abundance of affection that would come his way. While he disguised the unhealthy obsession with love of his brother, he secretly desired an honest partner. So when you two finally admitted your shared appreciation for the other, Halfdan was more than grateful for your adoration. Your love was an unexpected but most welcome gift in his life, a beacon of warmth and affection.

🤎 Halfdan's jealousy often stems from his intense desire to protect his loved one. During his lifetime he always protected others, causing him to act before anything could happen. He can't help but feel threatened by others who may pose a potential danger or take your attention away. He becomes particularly suspicious when there are new admirers or allies around.

🤎 While Halfdan appears confident, fearless and strong, he has his moments of insecurity. Getting overshadowed by his brother most of his life only awakened insecure traits. He worries that he might not be good enough for your love, or that you perhaps find someone more suitable. Whenever he watches your conversation with a far more attractive man than Halfdan, he feels defeated.

🤎 Though his insecurities don‘t hold him back. He engages in friendly competition to prove his worth and claim his loved one's attention. Putting his steady arm around your waist, showing up behind your figure or simply grabbing your hand after approaching are his weapons of jealousy. This competitive streak is a way for him to assert his dominance and protect what's his. After all, you’re his beloved, not someone else’s muse.

🤎 Halfdan doesn’t openly admit it, but he is quite possessive when it comes to you. He doesn't appreciate others encroaching on what he considers his territory. Of course he doesn’t view you as an object he possesses, but you’re his significant other - which is why you belong to him only. He subtly marks you when he feels the need to reclaim you, whether it's through physical affection, possessive glances, or subtly leaving hickeys during your intimate moments.

🤎 Sometimes he's jealous but doesn't want to reveal it, due to you having fun and him being in a pleasant mood. Halfdan resorts to watching from a distance. He'll observe you carefully interacting with others and try to gauge the nature of those interactions. This can lead to moments of silent brooding.

🤎 After an evening where his jealousy grew due to you playing drinking games with some men, he will be upfront about it. Halfdan refuses to act childish, especially with you. He saw more than once how miscommunication results in only destruction. Therefore the Viking will approach you openly, expressing his concerns and jealousy. You’re more than thankful for his honesty, as it was a quality many men lacked.

🤎 Some days he won‘t tell you as he does trust your loyalty. Halfdan will only show you more need for affection. He needs to see if you’ll still stay by his side. This leads to actions like seeking for kisses, holding you close, cuddling and going out together.

🤎 On other occasions he puts his foot down, scaring the men who tried to pull you away, taking you by your hand and leaving the event as soon as possible. In times where his insecurities terribly kick in, he seeks for a silent moment, away from all the crowds. You accompany him, knowing how he must’ve felt and little by little his jealousy and worries vanish.

🤎 Nevertheless, Halfdan isn’t the type to fight someone due to jealousy and he isn’t that jealous either. He’s possessive, yes, but in a matter that doesn‘t harm you, your relationship or anyone else. You’re glad you’re dating a mature man who stands to his feelings but doesn‘t need to prove them through violence.

#vikings x you #vikings x reader #vikings #halfdan #halfdan x reader #halfdan x you #vikings halfdan

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warm-concrete · 6 months

Text

Weapon & Wound.

Chapter 2

Astarion x Fem!Reader + Gale x Fem!Reader

Summary: Tav is a druid drow called Fawn.

Fawn gains attention wherever she goes. She's more than used to men that are troublesomely complimentary at best, wishing to revel in her death at worst.

So she's exasperated when she can't divert her attention from Astarion, who acts as though he'd like to do both and more.

Word Count: 6.7k

Ao3 Links: Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

Tags on Ao3. NSFW Snippet Below.

What a show.

Astarion had been awake all night, still not used to sleeping through it, despite all the battles he’d been dragged into that day.

It had been an incredibly dull evening, trapped with his thoughts by the rain. Usually he’d go find something to hunt and drink but, he wasn’t going to get drenched for animal blood, his hair would be ruined.

Instead he focused on the one thing that didn’t involve the tadpole or Cazador. He thought about her. If he was honest, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. Like the evening they’d spent gossiping, when she’d excitedly indulged his musings on their companions’ blood. It was a strange feeling, chatting casually, she almost seemed more comfortable than he was with his undead status.

Whenever she was close, which was constantly since he had apparently been included in her favoured group to go off exploring, he couldn’t help but become acutely aware of her smell. Her blood pumping, hidden by skin. It was becoming irksome, to know how she felt inside him, the effect her blood had in him. He desperately wanted more, but it wasn’t like he could just ask.

He was growing better at hunting animals with each passing day. It was almost funny, how he was so practised in the art of luring people but, against the wilderness he was out of his element. Like he was just another predator on the food-chain. But he had to do it, their blood was the only thing stopping him from tearing Fawn apart. Gods! Even her stupid name temped him, teased him.

After being starved for so long, he found that he didn’t like the feeling of being full. It was strange, unnatural, uncomfortable. It felt worse than the infinite hunger he’d been forced to nurture. Except that one night. Her blood was the exquisite exception.

For the second time in this century, his dick twitched on its own accord. This time, in the privacy of his tent, covered with the sound of the storm he grew curious. Besides he didn’t have any better plans and abstinence was unhealthy for a man of his condition, probably.

Astarion pulled his semi out from his leathers. He spat in his palm and reached for himself. Anything to have her in my mouth again. Her flesh; skin not so tough when warred with his jaw. He pumped slowly, with a strong grip. She’d nursed him drooling and panting and messy, dosing him, nourishing him. His breath hitched. He tried to picture spreading her open, instead he saw another’s legs. This was torture.

But, he continued, fangs bared as he looked down as himself. His dick was pulsing, straining, dripping. His fist was hammering down, desperate for distraction, to loosen some tension. He was well versed in finding what made another tick, and yet.

He tried closing his eyes, brow crumpled. A thought flashed; the drow climbing onto him. Yes. Grabbing his neck, tipping his head back. Gods, yes. An unexpected heat spread through him, he was leaking over his fingers. She drew a stake from where one arm had stayed behind her back, plunging it through ribs.

“Ueh.” He whipped his hand away from himself, shakily wiping his hand off over his chest, bare from where his shirt had ridden up. “Mood killer.” He announced to his messy confines. His dick still stood straight, aching for attention but, he was disinterested in what his body wanted. Blood, touch, heat, softness; always so needy, it was tiresome.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed as he lay still. He thought of thumbing through a book he’d picked up but remembered how incredibly dull its contents had been: ‘Thyme heals all wounds’. The spelling had been covered with a dark smudge when he grabbed it. He wasn’t amused when he’d sat expecting some hilariously awful publication, only to find infographics and illustrations about planting a garden of useful herbs. The rain had slowed from a pour, but was still constant, relentless. Although the thunder had grown sparse.

Thats when he’d heard her.

#bg3 #astarion x female reader #astarion x female tav #astarion smut #astarion x you #astarion x tav #astarion #astarion x reader #bg3 smut #bg3 fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #bg3 gale #gale x tav

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aquagustd · 2 years

Text

hell is empty - JJK, KTH

↳ PART 09 of hell is empty

life has a tendency to throw things your way when you least expect it, when you’re content, and the ominous presence knows exactly how to steer your existence back into the darkness.

prev | series masterlist | next [chapter summaries under masterlist]

pairing — drvg lord!jungkook x reader, hotel owner!taehyung x reader

genre/rating — R | angst, fluff, smut, love triangle au

word count — 11.1K

play — softcore by the neighbourhood

warnings/tags — single parent!reader, dad!JK, ex-boyfriend!JK, CEO!taehyung, pharmacy tech!reader, strong language, mentions of alcohol, one attempted kiss, lots of tears, oc & junho’s first ‘fight,’ subtle mention of gvns + vi0lence, jk is still MIA, oc + tae finally opening up 🥹, mentions of an off-screen talk about contraception, mentions of death, explicit smut — dom!tae, dirty talk, praise kink, biting/scratching, hickies, oc being bratty 😳, rough sex, hair pulling, pussy slapping, edging, spanking, choking, mouth stuffing, katoptronophilia (found the name for oc’s mirror kink? heh), foot play, toe sucking, brief foot job, [if you find foot play weird ~ the paragraphs are bolded if you want to skip it], impreg kink 🫣, oral (f), fingering, tae’s stubble sjklskdf, unprotected sex, slight overstimulation, creampie, multiple orgasms

note: okay, i decided to split this part into two once again since again, it’s a lot to take in and i don’t want to bombard you guys 😀 since i know it’s painful at times 😔 so this is part 09.1 !!

The beer grows warm in your hands, squeezed between your palms as you eye the man seated on your couch.

“Why are you standing way over there?” Seojoon chuckles, ankle propped on his knee as he snuggles into your couch, waving you over. “What’s new? It’s been a while since we talked.”

Sluggishly, you shuffle over to him and sit at the edge of the couch cushion, taking the tiniest sip from your beer before turning to him, forcing a smile onto your lips.

“Yeah…it’s been a while.”

You meet his gaze, hazy eyes locked with yours as you scan his face. This is the same Seojoon you spent late nights with, staying up to just talk about life and anything else that would pop up in conversation. The same Seojoon you trusted to take care of your son whenever you were at work or had other important matters to deal with. The same Seojoon who was there with one shout from you to deal with the bat that had gotten into your room or a clogged pipe. The same Seojoon.

But why does it feel…different now? Why do you feel so uncomfortable? His presence – so unnerving. And you feel guilty for it. To avoid him when he’s done nothing wrong except be a little too touchy with you recently.

That’s how some men are, you muse.

You show them some teeth and they think you’re down for whatever.

Perhaps you didn’t notice it before, you just don’t know why he’s giving you the creeps lately. Even before he started getting handsy with you.

“Ever since that fucker came to town you forgot all about me,” he sniggers, taking a swig from his can to then throw his arm over the backrest of the couch, fingers an inch away from your neck. There’s nothing you can say to that, because you have…Since Jungkook is around to take care of Junho and you learned to deal with clogged pipes and bats yourself. It just happened to be around the same time that Jungkook returned.

You open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off, his words tapering into a croaky chuckle.

“Seems like you’re done using me.”

“No, that’s not it.”

He drags his tongue between his teeth, shaking his head twice, “nah I’m sure that’s what it is.”

Out of reflex, your hand flies to his knee to stress your point. Snapping away when his gaze falls to the point of contact. You press your hand to your own knee know, cursing yourself.

“We weren’t using you Seojoon, Junho does ask for you sometimes. It’s just that he’s been so…occupied with his dad these days. He’s hardly home if I’m being honest.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t blame the kid,” he mutters, speaking into his can, “asshole left and came back and bribed him with money and toys. Of course he would want to spend time with him.”

You raise an eyebrow, suspicions spiking.

“What do you mean?”

He turns to you, noticing your wary expression because a short laugh bursts out of him, one that has you scooting an inch away from him.

“I saw the Urus parked in the garage,” he nods, jutting his thumb behind him which is far from the direction of the garage, “figured his father got it for him since it’s Smiley’s favorite car.”

You’re silent, scanning his sheepish demeanor as his eyes shift around the room before they fall on you, a smirk tugging at his lips as he runs a hand through his curly hair.

“What about you?”

Your mouth twitches, “what about me?”

“Did he buy you anything?”

“Apart from the fact that I have to drive Junho around in the Urus, no, he didn’t.”

He nods, jutting out his bottom lip before he jumps a little closer, fist pressed to his temple as he slurps up the dregs of his beer, “and money?”

You regret ever confiding in him.

“What money?”

“You know,” he laughs, knee brushing yours lightly as he sets down the beer can to reach for another, “the money he’s been sending you every month?”

You suddenly feel the need to lie, “still the same.”

“Damn, so he gives Junho all that money and still managed to buy him a Urus and all these fucking expensive toys?”

If your suspicions had a radar – it would be beeping like crazy.

Junho is a neat boy lately. He packs all his toys and cars away after he’s done with them, and he knows not to leave them out in the lounge or kitchen or laying in the hallway. So, how does Seojoon know about the toys?

“And you still don’t spend the money?”

You rub your forehead, defences shooting up, “no.”

“So you’re still saving it like you said?”

“Why are you so interested in the money?”

His eyebrows shoot up, a flash of an emotion you’ve never seen before passes his features which has you wondering if you’ve made a mistake. But the nervous chuckle he lets out after has your hackles rising.

“I’m just asking, you’re not curious? Where does he get all that money from?”

And then it hits you.

So hard you feel yourself standing up but you’re not. You’re still sat next to him, blinking stupidly.

He’s after the money he knows you’re saving for Junho when he’s old enough to make decisions for himself and figure out what to do with the money his father left for him.

“Seojoon you—”

“So, you don’t miss me?”

Your feel your facial muscles tense, “what?”

“You know—” he laughs, his arm suddenly around your shoulder “—how things used to be with us?”

You shrug off his hand, making a move to stand from the couch but he’s got your wrist in his grip, light but terrifying.

“You’re gonna choose to run away instead of answer my question?” He speaks sharply, the smile he has on a juxtaposition of the domineering tone in his voice. “I know you miss me.”

When you speak, that’s when you feel your heartbeat pulsing in your throat, twisting your arm to break free from his hold. You laugh, masking your fear, showing him that you’re completely unaffected by him and his firm hold your hand.

“What do you mean?” You chuckle lightly, using your other hand to peel his fingers off and rise from the couch, pacing over to the door.

You’re turned to the door when you feel his breath hit the back of your neck, spinning around abruptly to find him so close, your chests nearly touching before you take a few steps away. Heart sinking to the pit of your stomach when the ice-cold door presses into your back. His eyes are glazed over, head cocking to the side menacingly.

“You know what I mean. Do you miss spending time with me?”

“Seojoon,” you chuckle, pushing him away lightly but he’s glued to the spot, Chest rock hard against your touch, “what are you talking about?”

“Just answer the question,” he states plainly, voice dropping to a whisper.

You look up at him, chin quivering slightly, “what are y—”

“I bet that bastard bought you off too am I right? You fell for his tricks and now you won’t admit your feelings for me.”

“What the fu—Seojoon what feelings? You’re my friend.”

His eye twitches, snarling through his words as he presses a hand to the door, towering over you.

“Stop lying,” he growls, the sounds paired with that blank look in his eyes sends a chill down your spine.

“I’m not lying, we’re friends, right?”

“No,” he exclaims, banging a fist into the door, “we’re not friends! Friends don’t do the things we did!”

You click your tongue, still believing that he’s playing some stupid prank on you.

“Seojoon, stop it now.”

“Stop what? Loving you?!”

You can’t help the laugh that bursts out of you, you’re aware that he’s being serious, but that seems like your only response in this situation. But the smile gets wiped off your face when he wraps an arm around your waist and tugs you close, his chest now flush against yours.

“Seojoon—” you beat your fists against his chest, that tiny voice inside your head telling you to remain calm getting smaller and smaller “—let me go.”

“NO! All those nights I spent watching you fall asleep, you would cuddle closer to me! All that was gone when that asshole came back! I saw you with him and that other snob. They can’t love you like I can.”

“What the fuck Seojoon?!”

He continues to spew a whole load of bullshit, while you’re beating at his chest and kicking his shin, but he refuses to let go.

“Listen to me, please! I saw you at the Junho’s party! You weren’t happy! You’re never happy around them,” he rambles, head dipping down while you’re shoving at his face, “I can keep you happy.”

Your eyes widen in horror when he grabs the back of your head and lowers his with his lips puckered. Pinning your hands to the door. Turning your head to the side, you spot your car keys in the bowl kept to the right of the door and reach for it, rearing your hand back and driving it into his side which has him stumbling away, clutching his side in pain.

You grab his collar and yank open the door, tossing him out in one swift movement, “you piece of shit!” He reaches out for you, but you jerk your knee upward, hitting his chin harshly. A loud crack resounding in the hall.

”Leave me the fuck alone or I’m calling the police!”

Without a single look at his face, you slam the door and fling the car keys across the room, gaze shifting around the small space of your apartment as your heart beats a rapid rhythm. You lock the door and push the heavy armchair across the front of the hall, setting it against the door. Rushing down the hallway, you stand outside Junho’s room, lingering in the doorway as you peek inside. Finding it empty.

Of course, you know he’s not here. He’s with Yoongi and Yuri. Why are you looking for him when you know he’s not here?

You jog to the lounge again, pausing when you see the beer cans. Like an arrow through your chest, what happened a few moments ago comes to the forefront of your mind. A stream of tears pouring down your cheeks as you pick them up one by one and throw them into the trash can.

With a pained groan, you flop down onto your bed after locking the door, chest aching as you press your fist to your forehead, wondering how you could let that happen. His shut eyes, crusty lips, filthy hands on your skin sits like a stain in your memory, playing like a broken record in your head and no matter how hard you rub your eyes – it just wouldn’t go away.

Worst of all, you trusted that man. And he turned out to be this psycho who watches your every move and knows exactly what’s happening in your life without your knowledge. Innocently, you would spend your free time with him watching movies and all along he had different intentions. You can’t help but feel like you fed his desire, you’re to blame for trusting a complete stranger and spilling everything.

A sob wracks your chest, a vision of what could’ve happened distorting your head.

Hugging your knees to your chest, you think of Junho, and what would’ve happened if he were here. Thank God he wasn’t here.

If Seojoon didn’t show up you would’ve been showered and in bed, now you can’t move, sitting in one spot as your apartment grows cold and dull.

You’re searching for your phone, spotting it on the side table before bringing it up to your face with shaky hands, fingers scrolling up and down through your contact list. Fear still fresh and coursing through your veins. It’s almost midnight. Everyone would be asleep.

The silence in your home is deafening, and you feel utterly and nauseatingly alone.

Heart refusing to slow down, rocking back and forth, you wait for him to answer, staring at the orange beam of light filtering in through a crack in your curtains, hyperaware that Seojoon is just out the door. You could call security on him at any moment, but you can’t bring yourself to. And you can take care of yourself. All you need to do is hear—

“He-llo?”

You chew on your nails, sitting up straight as you clear your throat, “hello…”

His voice is thick with sleep, low and raspy, and you can imagine the sleepy pout he’s doing as he speaks.

“It’s past 12, what’s wrong?”

You inhale a shuddering breath, vision getting blurred by tears all over again. You take a moment to think over it again, it doesn’t seem all that bad – you got out of it before it could escalate. So why do you feel so fucking broken?

“I-I know—” your voice cracks, refusing to let you speak before you take a few deep inhales again, focusing on the chipped corner of your coffee table.

“___? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing I…”

“I’m coming over right now. It’s only a two-hour flight.”

“No,” you protest, leaning to the side to rest your head on your arm, “no don’t come. I’m okay.”

“You don’t sound okay, love.”

“I just…”

“Nightmares again?”

Smiling through your tears, you press your lips together, nodding despite him not being able to see you.

“Is Smiley staying over at Yoongi’s again?”

You nod again, pressing a hand to your forehead, “yeah.”

Shuffling from the other end of the line filters through the speaker, his voice much clearer now, yet still laced with sleep.

“I can come over, it’s not a problem.”

“No, I’m okay.”

He exhales a deep sigh, whispering, “are you in bed?”

“Yeah,” you quake, resting on the couch now, facing the doorway.

“This…This might be stupid, but I can sing for you?”

You smile to yourself, hand resting on your belly as you stare at the ceiling.

“Really?”

“I’m not that good or anything but I can for you, if that would help your nightmares.”

The last time someone sang you to sleep was when you were five years old, and your mother would lay by your side humming a soporific tune. You sing the same for Junho, and it works wonders whenever he deals with his own nightmares.

“Okay.”

You can hear the smile in his voice, “don’t laugh at me.”

Giggling, you rest the phone on the side, next to your ear, waiting for him to begin.

“I won’t”

“It’s sort of a Christmas song…”

“That’s perfect.”

He clears his throat again, exaggerating the sound a bit before he begins. Taking your breath away with his honey voice.

“Hey snow It’s coming today What should I prepare? I’m ready to greet you, okay Grey is falling on the canvas You can just cover it white—

Are you awake?”

“Your voice is…” You chuckle giddily, heart slowing to a steady beat, “wow. You really are perfect.”

“Thank you but you shouldn’t be talking, you should be sleeping.”

You roll your eyes, “you asked if I’m awake!”

“I was just checking!”

“Hmm,” you snort, bringing your pillow up to your chest to cuddle, “continue.”

“I’ll give you the world In this cold season You are my special event Your warmth will melt My blue and grey away.”

“Such a sweet song.”

“Not sweet enough if you’re still up.”

You yawn, eyes slipping shut as you envision him next you, curled up behind you on your bed while you’re drifting off to sleep, fast asleep knowing Junho is safe and sound and probably on his third dream for the night.

“When the world is full of white flowers May out times be more special When time is standing still May these flowers fall on your sad smile.”

Sleep washes over you with his gentle words weaving into your mind, turning over to your left side as you peek at the door for a second then close your eyes again, so drowsy with his soothing melody.

“Good night love.”

You’re mumbling, phone slipping from your hand as you hear yourself say:

“Good night, Tae.”

“WHAT THE FUCK? WHY DIDN’T YOU CALL THE POLICE?”

You hold up your hands placatingly, tugging Yuri’s arm so she’ll return to her seat and calm down a tad. Peeking over her shoulder, you watch Yoongi from the lounge, seeing him stand behind Junho as they continue mix something in a large bowl.

“Weren’t you scared? And you stayed there all day? Fuck no. You’re moving in with me and Yoongi till you find a new apartment. I can’t fucking believe him! What the fuck?! AND HE KNEW ABOUT THE PARTY AND THE CAR AND THE MONEY.”

“Well, technically,” you sigh, intertwining your fingers with hers, “I told him about the money a while ago. And no no—”

She throws you an exhausted look, a mix of disapproval and disgust written across her face.

“You wanted me to get with him!”

“That was before I knew he was psycho!”

“Me too!”

She scratches her head, waving your joined hands around.

“But to tell him about the money…”

“I know and I honestly thought he was after that.”

She scoffs, “anyone with a fully functioning mind knew what he was after, I’m just…shocked, you know? He seemed so nice every time I saw him, and he was so good with Smiley.”

You exhale a burdened sigh, staring at nothing in particular, “looks can be deceiving.”

“Still waters run deep.”

Silence falls over you, the sound of Junho and Yoongi’s giggles echoing in their capacious home. Seojoon’s blank look replays in your mind, a chill runs down your spine when you think of how he cornered you. Refused to let you go. Yuri narrows her eyes at you, cogs turning behind her brown eyes.

“So when are you moving in?”

“What?” You laugh, swatting her arm, “we’re not.”

“Well, I’m gonna tell Yoongi whether you like it or not and you know what he’s gonna do.”

“Tell Jungkook and I can’t have that!”

Her eyebrow jumps, “why not?”

“Because…”

“Because…he’ll…break Seojoon’s legs and hand it to you?”

You gasp, “we—”

“Taehyung would do the same by the way. I’m one hundred percent sure. Should I refresh your memory and remind you? That night in the club?”

Your eyes widen, “oh God no. He’ll beat Seojoon to a pulp. Did you see their size difference?”

She juts out her lip, leaning back on the couch, “he’ll deserve it.”

“I just don’t want to cause any more issues, as it is Junho has been asking a LOT of questions lately.”

“Oh,” she chuckles, crossed legs brushing yours, “tell me about it.” She twists in the couch, ensuring that Yoongi is far away before dipping closer to you, hand cupped around the side of her mouth. “The other night he asked Yoongi why you and Jungkook can’t be together like us.”

Even if you laugh, your heart chips a bit to hear that.

“He also asked when I’m gonna have my own child,” she rolls her eyes, smile fading ever so slightly.

“Ugh, Junho. Hey—” you wiggle her knee around, voice lowering to a whisper “—how’s that going? Yoongi said I should talk to you…something like that.”

She dismisses you with a wave of her hand, fixing her t-shirt as she rises from the couch, but you yank her back down.

“Tell me!”

“No,” she grins, “it’s nothing. You know Yoongi overthinks everything.”

“Yeah, but everything is good, right?”

Her smile turns solemn, “I have an appointment with the gynae next weekend.”

“Alright, well you let me know how it goes.”

“WE’RE READY!”

Junho skips to the lounge holding a big silver dish while Yoongi follows carrying smaller bowls, setting it on the table then gesturing for you to join them. You peek into the bigger dish, running your fingers through Junho’s hair.

“You guys made hwachae!”

“Perfect for this weather,” Yoongi winks at Junho, busy scooping out some of the watermelon punch to then hand to Yuri who takes the seat next to him.

“It’s been so rainy these past few days,” you comment, sitting down next to Junho as you fill up his bowl. “Nice to have the sun out.”

Yuri hums, mouth stuffed, “I love the rain. This is so good! Thanks baby and baby—” She pinches Junho’s cheek who pouts, fist held out.

“I’m not a baby anymore!”

Yuri’s mouth hangs open, “yeah well you’re still a baby to me, okay?”

Pulling Junho’s chair closer to you, you nuzzle into his neck, “we know you’re not a baby but you’re still our baby, hm?”

His big eyes soften, dimple denting his cheek as he smiles.

The only sounds that can be heard is soft slurping and munching, enjoying the sweet juices while you’re itching to ask that one question. One that’s been nagging you ever since you arrived at Yoongi’s house.

“Ah—” Juice spills down Junho’s chin, and he panics, gesturing to the mess.

Yoongi hands Yuri a tissue, and she gets to cleaning up Junho’s neck and chin, patting his chest for good measure.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome baby.”

“Have you heard from Jungkook?”

Their heads snap in your direction, including Junho, who then looks at Yoongi, waiting for an answer.

Yoongi seems a bit stunned by the question, before his face relaxes to its usual expression, setting down his spoon.

“I spoke to him this morning.”

“And?”

His eyebrows furrow, “he’s…okay. Why do you ask?”

Your spoon clinks against the sides of your now empty bowl, fist tucked under your cheek.

“I’ve been trying to call him. But he wasn’t picking up. Voicemail.”

You’re avoiding Yuri’s inquisitive stare, knowing that she’s going to nail you for being so curious about Jungkook.

“I’ll let him know you tried calling.”

“No,” you blurt, fixated on the small chunk of ice slowly melting away in your bowl, “it’s okay. I was just wondering.”

Yoongi hums, tongue poking at his cheek.

“Smiley,” he calls, jerking his head in the direction of the kitchen, “let’s clean up.”

They clear the table, while you’re watching in awe as Junho takes each of your bowls and stacks them into each other. He’s not like this at home.

“We’re making dinner tonight,” Yoongi announces, holding Junho’s hand in his as they pad over to the lounge, “gonna chill in the meantime.”

“Hey, Yoongs,” Yuri shouts, earning a slow ‘yeah’ from her husband, “can you come over here for a sec?”

Once he’s back in the dining room, without Junho this time, Yuri passes you a quick look, one you recognize. But it’s too late since Yoongi is already here.

“We need to talk to you about something.”

He pulls out the chair Junho occupied earlier, sitting between the two of you, “what?”

She cocks a brow, gesturing to Yoongi with her chin while Yoongi looks at you perplexed.

“What are you two up to?”

“Nothing,” Yuri sighs deeply, “you remember Seojoon, the guy that moved in next to ___ after we got married?”

He thinks for a bit, small eyes narrowed, “y…es. Tech dude?”

“Yeah, last night he—”

“Lat night—“ you begin carefully, knowing that it’s best if you tell the story instead of Yuri given how she reacted earlier “—last night he came over.”

You keep your gaze on the charcoal grey tablecloth, drawing invisible patterns as you continue with a quickening heartbeat.

“He said we should hang out since we haven’t done it in a while…and recently, he’s been…giving me a weird vibe so I was like, okay, let me just get it over with since Junho isn’t around.”

Glancing upward, you check if Yoongi is still listening, and he is, elbow propped on the table with his gaze more pensive.

“And…we drank, well, he drank. I had this feeling, but I figured I was just overthinking it since we hung out a ton of times before.”

“What happened?”

“Uh, he…started asking me all these questions about Junho and Jungkook and money and I know it’s my fault since I should’ve have been so open with him from the beginning.”

“And?”

“I figured he was after the money but then he—God, this is so weird.”

“No, it’s not weird,” Yuri exclaims, reaching across the table to grab your hand as she grips Yoongi’s shoulder with the other, drawing his attention to her, “he was stalking her. Started talking about the party when he wasn’t even invited! About the car Jungkook bought and all that and he said other creepy things!”

Yoongi’s eyebrows shoot up, “what else did he say? How do you know for sure that he was stalking you?”

“I don’t know,” you laugh emptily, “just…the things he said freaked me out.”

“And what he did after…” Yuri finishes, shooting a warning glare at you.

Yoongi turns to you, “what did he do?”

“He…well, he grabbed my hand—” you clutch your sore wrist to your chest, recounting the events from last night “—and he wouldn’t let me go. When I tried to get away, he pushed me against the door and refused to let me go still. Then he…”

“That’s harassment!”

Yoongi turns to Yuri who’s fuming all over again, his voice calm, “then he…?”

“He tried to kiss me, but I managed to push him away and kick him out.”

“And she still slept there! She should’ve called the police!”

“I’m afraid of how much he knows.”

“You have nothing to worry about,” Yoongi counters, pushing the chair back as he stands up, “Yuri and I will take you back home to pack whatever you need, you’re staying with us till we deal with him.”

Yuri squeals, grabbing your hands to pull you in for a hug, “I told you!”

Perhaps it isn’t too safe for you to go back there with Seojoon around, knowing what a creep he turned out to be. And maybe you did wake up multiple times throughout the night to monitor your surroundings. As much as you hate to admit it, you had to drink several glasses of water before you truly calmed down.

She takes your face between her palms, grinning, “told you he’ll say that. Don’t worry about anything. Yoongi will sort everything out. Let’s get ready to fetch your things.”

You’re eyeing Yoongi who’s busy talking on the phone, slipping away into the kitchen.

How he deals with Seojoon shouldn’t be any of your business, right? Especially since Yuri has no idea who he was all those years ago.

Yuri holds out the purple, jewel toned silk dress, mouth hanging open, “this. You’re wearing this on Friday.”

You stuff another pair of jeans into your suitcase, huffing, “Yuri, you’re supposed to be helping me pack. Not help me pick out what I’m gonna wear!”

She tosses the dress onto your bed, resuming her search in your cupboard, “you’re right, you’re right. You could wear anything, and Taehyung would still drool!”

Heat creeps to your cheeks, “shut up!”

Butterflies swarm your belly at the mention of his name, fluttering around when you think of how your date would go this Friday. He’s taking you out to one of the…fanciest restaurants in town.

Yuri flops down on your bed dreamily, arms splayed behind her, “still can’t believe he sang you to sleep. Yoongi does sometimes…but it’s mostly me singing him to sleep! And I don’t mind, since I love watching how he struggles to keep his eyes open.”

You chuckle, aiming a camisole at her face, “he didn’t really sing me to sleep. I dozed off for a while then woke up again since I couldn’t…fucking calm down.”

“Ah,” she pouts, tugging at the hem of your shirt, “sorry babe.”

“It’s okay.”

“I wish you would’ve called us! If I saw him I would’ve—” she holds up her hands, choking the air “—you know?”

You snort, “I can take care of myself.”

“Right, right, I know,” she jokes, poking at your side, “you were part of the bees once upon a time.”

Smirking, you collapse next to her, taking a lump of her hair between your fingers. She opens her mouth to speak, but the sound of your phone ringing in the lounge interrupts her. You rush over to answer it, eyebrows pinching together when you see an unknown number flashing on the screen.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me, Jungkook.”

“O-Oh,” you chuckle, both hands clutching the phone to your ear, “hey.”

“I tried calling you.”

You scoff, “I tried calling you! And you wouldn’t take any of my calls.”

“What?”

You sit at the edge of the kitchen stool, hearing the shock in his voice, “yeah. I tried calling and you wouldn’t answer. Then voicemail.”

“That’s funny because I didn’t get any calls at all.”

You purse your lips, “I find that hard to believe.”

“I’m serious. Not a single call. And I have my phone with me all the time. You know I can switch numbers on my phone, but still receive calls on one. I explained it to you.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.”

“But I didn’t get any from your number,” you hear him make a small sound of surprise, “and I sent Junho a few messages, but he didn’t reply.”

“What? Junho?”

“Yeah, I know you have like this safety thing on for him so he can’t receive calls from unknown numbers, so I couldn’t call you there either. He didn’t reply so I was worried, but Yoongi said you guys are okay.”

You’re already making your way to Junho’s room, finding him stuffing the miniature version of your suitcase with his own clothes.

“Oh, yeah, we’re okay.”

Junho leaps up, pulling at your dress, “can I talk to dad?”

“I’ll call you later, gotta go.”

“Alright, bye.”

“Wait, why did you try calling?”

“Oh, err…I wanted to talk to you about something.”

You hear someone speak in the background, along with shuffling, “okay, I’ll call you and we can talk.”

“Okay.”

Once you hear beeping to signal the end of the call, you set your phone down on Junho’s desk, scanning his room.

“Where’s your iPad?”

Immediately, you notice his change in expression, fingers pulling at his bottom lip.

“I got it here.”

You fold your arms, perched at the edge of his bed, “can I see it?”

He shuffles around his room, looking under the heaps of clothing and inside his drawers. Stalling. Finally, he finds it in the overnight bag he took to Yoongi’s this weekend, handing it to you without meeting your gaze.

And just like Jungkook said, you open up the messaging app to see over fifteen voice notes from Jungkook. All have been opened. But not one response from your son. Junho hovers near you, swaying on his feet.

‘Hey Smiley! How’s my big boy doing? I miss you!’

‘Smiley! What are you up to? I saw a Bugatti on my way to work today and I thought of you. I’m always thinking of you and mamma. Tell her I miss her and I miss you toooo!’

‘Junho I hope you’re okay! Please let me know if you want anything before I get back. There’s a nice shop over here and they keep Matchbox and Hot Wheels!’

‘Smiley you’re doing good? Respond to meeeeee.’

‘Does mamma like black or white more?’

‘Don’t tell her I asked, pleaseeeee.’

‘Smiley can you tell mamma I’m trying to call her. I don’t think she wants to talk to me. Ha ha.’

You glance at Junho, a dense lump lodged in your throat. He’s staring at the screen now, sat next to you.

‘I love you sonnnn, I love you both!’

Locking the iPad abruptly, you turn to Junho, heart pounding in your chest. Ears turning hot when you catch sight of Junho’s guilty frown.

“Are you going to tell me…why you didn’t respond to dad?”

He hops off the bed, short legs carrying him to the other side of the room where he grabs his headphones.

“Junho. I’m talking to you. Why didn’t you tell me dad was trying to call?”

“Because,” he grits out, back turned to you.

You inhale a shuddering breath, your own voice going against your will and booming out into the room.

“Because what?!”

“Because I didn’t want to!” He yells, stomping his feet.

“You didn’t want to?!”

“Yes!”

You grab his arm, turning his head with a hold on his chin, thumb and forefinger pressing into his cheeks, “why not?!”

He squirms out of your hold, eyes as wide as saucers, “because!”

“That’s it,” you shout, folding the cover over his iPad and tucking it under your arm, “no more iPad for you.”

“NO!”

“The weekend is over anyway.”

“Mamma,” he sobs, reaching out for you. You will yourself to look away, ignoring the way tears brim his doe eyes because you’ll give in to him. And then he won’t learn his lesson.

“Are you going to tell me why you didn’t respond to dad?!”

“Because,” he grits, shoulders lifting with each harsh breath he takes, “because I didn’t want to talk to him. He’s gone again!”

Your heart stutters in your chest, tears springing to your eyes.

“He’s gone! He left us again!”

“J-Junho…”

“I didn’t want to talk to him,” he repeats, wiping at his eyes furiously, “I didn’t want to!”

“He’s coming back,” you soothe, crouching in front of him to wipe his tears but he jerks away, stuttering through his words.

“And now you’re angry with me!”

“Junho, I’m not—”

“Yes, you are!”

You pull him into your lap, wiping his tears with the hem of your shirt.

“I’m just…sad. I was waiting for dad to call for so long and then when I tried to call him, it wasn’t going through. So, I was just worried and then I found out that all along he’s been sending you messages and you didn’t tell me.”

He buries his head in your chest, sobbing, “I’m sorry.”

You pat his back, seeing Yuri’s reflection in the mirror to your left. Spinning around with Junho in your lap, you wipe your eyes with your shoulder, sending her a maudlin smile.

“How much did you see” – you mouth to her, receiving a shrug.

“Enough.”

Later that evening, you’re trying to make sense of why Junho would do something like that. Why would he ignore his father when he loves him so much and he’s afraid that he’s never going to come back? How can a child, his age, have all the anger and willpower to ignore someone he yearns to talk to?

You’re glad that you made up after, sat with him till he fell asleep and tucked him in good, but you know you should’ve handled it differently.

Sat in the patio across Yoongi and Yuri, you take a sip of your drink, shrinking into your seat.

“Am I a bad mother?”

“What? NO!”

“Of course not.”

You giggle at their reactions, nodding.

Yoongi sits back in the couch, “why would you think that?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, gazing up at the sky, “I just feel like I could’ve…reacted better today.”

“You were surprised, and you made up pretty quick,” Yuri quips, nudging Yoongi in his side so he can add some of his input.

“Smiley’s a smart boy, I’m sure he understood why you were mad at him.”

“If your kids don’t hate you at some point then you’re a bad parent.”

Both you and Yoongi share the same quizzical expression, eyes on Yuri who sinks into Yoongi’s side, laughing hysterically.

“What? That’s what my mother says!”

Yoongi hugs her into his side, gummy smile in place, “I guess she’s right.”

“Do you think your kids would hate you at some point, Yoongi?” You tease, hearing a rigid no from him.

“My kids are gonna love me! I’m gonna spoil them and spend all my time with them, make sure that they’re always having fun.”

Yuri stares up at him fondly, stars in her eyes.

“Yeah?”

He looks down at her, nodding with his cheeks puffed up, “mhm.”

“Can’t wait,” she giggles, reaching for his hand to place a kiss on his knuckles.

You look away to give them privacy, but you find your gaze wandering back to them. A sense of longing blooming in your heart at their precious interaction.

Taehyung pulls up in the driveway with a loud roar of his engine, radiant smile in place. You wave Yuri and Junho goodbye, taking cautious steps down the stairs as you rush over to his car. Clicking in the seatbelt, you’re unable to hide your goofy smile once you turn to face him.

“Hey.”

He gives you quick peck on the lips, his fingers brushing your chin ever so slightly but it’s enough to have your face turn hot and tingling. The taste of mint lingers on your lips, along with his playful smile.

“Hey,” he says charmingly, one hand on the wheel while the other sits on the gearshift, “you look beautiful.”

You flick your hair over your shoulder, scanning his attire. Grey, three-piece suit with a darker colored tie, hair swept over his forehead.

“Thank you, so do you.”

“How have you been?”

You gaze out the window, eyes tracking each car that passes by. A habit you picked up from your son.

“Been okay, and yours?”

“Busy,” he sighs, heel of his palm pressed to the wheel as he takes the first left turn, “things went well at our new branch. I’m just glad that I’m back home.”

“That’s good.”

He turns to you, dark brown eyes simmering with the streetlights, “to see you.”

“Me too,” you smirk, alarmed when a car honks behind you, “hey, keep your eyes on the road!”

“It’s not my fault!” He laughs, the sound rich and masculine, “you distracted me.”

Face burning impossibly hot, you fix the strap of your dress, marvelling at the bright yellow lights ahead once you come to a stop outside a large building. It’s exterior black with yellow highlights and a modern structure. ‘Beaujolais’ in a glowing, brighter yellow situated above the double doors. While you were admiring the architecture, you failed to notice that Taehyung had left his seat to make his way to your side, startling you when he opens your door.

“Madam,” he winks, holding out his hand which you take gracefully.

Once you enter, all heads turn your way, his name being mumbled in every corner of the dimly lit restaurant. You grip onto his arm, feeling him lean into your side as you’re ushered to a quiet corner in the back, an elderly couple seated behind you. Taehyung tucks you into your seat, jerking it forward till you’re snug against the edge of the table.

You wait for him to take the seat across you, but he doesn’t, instead he pulls out the seat next to you, arm thrown over the backrest of your chair.

With a flick of his finger, not one word from him, the waiter dips his head and scurries away from your table, leaving you to take in the elegant interior, a low murmur floating around as well as the soft clink of utensils.

“Are you going to tell me what happened that night?”

He’s so close you could count each pore on his face – zero. Which leaves you feeling a little exposed. But he’s unbothered.

“Which night?” You whisper, whisper because he’s speaking in such a low tone.

He drags his tongue between his teeth, a light smirk playing on his lips. The entire gesture insanely attractive to you.

“Don’t play dumb with me, sweetheart. The night you called. You’re not the type to call at midnight crying over a nightmare. Usually, you’d tell me the next day.”

You scrunch up your nose when he nudges it with his index finger, following the sparkles his rings catch with the candlelight.

“I know you too well.”

Sticking out your bottom lip, you arrange your thoughts – wondering if you should tell him. Whenever you talk about it, it leaves you in a lugubrious mood for the rest of the day, and you don’t want to spoil your evening.

“I…I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

There’s a question on his lips, eyes searching yours before he nods slowly, fiddling with the napkin on his plate.

“Alright, but you are going to tell me.”

“I will,” you promise, shoulders feeling a little looser.

“How’s Smiley doing? I wanted to pop in to see him before we left but then we would’ve missed our reservation,” he pouts, his attention carried to your neck when you throw your hair over your shoulder.

“He’s good. Ah, you can see him tomorrow if you want to.”

“I was thinking we could go to this one water park not too far from here, Junho would love it!”

“Is it the one near Jangmi? I heard about it a while ago.”

“Yeah, Yoongi and Yuri can come along if they’d like, we can leave after work and maybe spend the night too.”

“That sounds like fun,” you admit, knowing how much Junho would enjoy the water park, since he’s your little water baby, “I’ll ask them.”

“Okay. Just let me know what they say, and I can book in for us,” he mumbles, reaching into his pocket for his phone.

He’s busy texting, and you can’t help but look, he lets you too, holding the phone up so you can observe.

“Deiji?” You say before thinking, but he’s quick to respond before you can play it off.

“Yeah, her dad owns the park, so I asked if she had hold a few rooms for us until you let me know.”

“Oh.”

At the mention of her, you recall the sickeningly sweet smell of her perfume, extremely high -pitched voice to match whenever Taehyung cracked a joke. Her grubby hands on him—

“Let’s check.”

Taehyung rubs his hands together, bringing one of the menus between you. You settle on one of their chicken dishes since the name sounded delicious itself and Taehyung picks out the starter and dessert, keeping his main similar to yours. The entire time he’s pinned to your side, hands caressing your knee as he munches on his entrée cutely.

You dab at the corners of his mouth, already full by the time you’re done but once the aroma of the chicken hits your nostrils when it’s placed in front of you – your stomach gurgles for more.

“Told you it’s good,” he chuckles, sipping at his wine. Whenever you turn to look at him – he looks at you, so you can’t truly ogle him like you usually do. But Taehyung in this setting – sipping on wine, lax and calm under the candlelight, he’s truly, so breathtakingly handsome. You surge forward, pressing your lips to the mole on his nose.

His eyes widen comically, as if breaking character before he relaxes, returning the gesture which has you giggling.

“The mole on your nose—“ you say, brushing it with your finger once again.

“What about it?”

“It’s cute.”

“I have one here and here too—” he bites his bottom lip, showing you the one just there.

“I know.”

“Why don’t you kiss those too?”

Heat settles on your cheeks once again, and it’s not the wine. You find the elderly woman’s bespectacled gaze on you, her face twisted in disgust.

“Maybe later,” you wink, patting his cheek lightly.

It’s silent for the rest of your meal, till dessert comes around, a rich, chocolatey mousse which has your tastebuds tingling, moaning with the decadence as it hits your tongue.

“I come here on special occasions,” he informs, poking into his mousse.

You lick the underside of your spoon, cocking a brow, “what’s today’s special occasion?”

He shrugs, “just feel like it.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you can tell he has more to say with the way he leaves his mousse unfinished, hands disappearing under the table.

“I haven’t been completely honest with you, ___.”

You swallow the last bit of chocolate, urging him to continue with raised brows.

“I mean, about my past,” he begins, words leaving his mouth cautiously, “I know, that day, you saw those pictures of me, and my mother said I was a rebel and all, but it’s more than that.”

Setting down your spoon, you rest your hands on the table, “okay.”

He shuts his eyes, struggle shooting through them once they reopen, “I just don’t want you to see me differently from this day onward. Who I was before is a poor representation of who I am today. What you get from me now is me, one hundred percent.”

“Tae,” you giggle, catching the short tufts of hair at the back of his neck between your fingers, “you can trust me.”

“I know I can,” he stresses, ringed fingers curling around your thigh, “I just…don’t want you to see me differently.”

You inhale a deep breath, releasing the words just as slow, “I haven’t been honest about my past too…so I understand.”

He chews on his bottom lip, gaze latched onto yours.

“Alright, well, I’ll go first.”

Nodding, you readjust your position in your seat as he does the same.

“If something happens to you, and it affected you so much, won’t you swear to yourself that you won’t let your kids go through the same?”

Your chin hits your chest as you nod, his words resonating within you since you share a similar thought.

“My father refused to marry the girl his parents picked out for him and instead married my mother, gave her two children and then left because he couldn’t take it anymore. Couldn’t handle taking care of a family without his parents’ wealth. So he left. Leaving us with absolutely nothing.”

You’re listening intently, arm winding around his back.

“But everything caught up with him,” he exhales a bitter laugh, “anyway, I was seen as the black sheep of the family. My brother worked hard in school, and I was trying too. But when your effort isn’t recognized when you know you’re trying, it just feels like you’re doing it all for nothing, you know? At least that’s what I thought when I was younger. So I gave up, got lost in the wrong corner at the wrong time and joined the wrong crowd.”

His large hand covers yours, lacing your fingers.

“The whole time, I grew up thinking that we were born into an unfortunate family, so when my grandfather caught me picking at his pocket in a high society event, I refused to believe him when he said I was his grandson. They still didn’t help until my mother agreed to give up one of her sons to the family name. She hated them—” he grits, agony flashing behind his eyes, “—hated them with a passion, thought he was lying so you know who she gave up?”

You cup the back of his neck, whispering, “you.”

“But I refused to leave my other family behind and that’s when everything went haywire. How I ended up—” he presses a hand to his forehead, hands trembling.

“We don’t have to talk about this, Tae.”

“No, I want you to know,” he intones, fixing his posture. “Again, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, given a weapon I didn’t even know how to handle at the time with one job assigned to me and my partner. We were supposed to shake the guy up, you know? Make him pay in another way till he could actually give us the money.”

He shakes his head vehemently, brown hair flopping over his eyes.

“But things went out of control, he tried to hurt me and my partner and before you know it, I was the one who pulled the trigger.”

With that, he exhales a burdened breath, turning to you slowly as he surveys every inch of your face. You’re taking it all in, wondering if he means what you think he means.

“You…?”

“Yes.”

This should affect you a lot more than it actually is, right? Why do you feel nothing after finding out that he once killed a man…in a difficult situation. Maybe because you witnessed something like that multiple times before.

“It was self-defence, that’s what they all said, but up till today I still live with the guilt knowing I could’ve aimed lower, in his leg, in his arm.”

Then his words hit you, stomach flipping in on itself.

“Why do you…carry one with you then?”

He chews on the corner of his mouth, “I don’t anymore. I keep it in my car. That day at the warehouse, I just had the suspicion that Jungkook was gonna do something stupid, so I took it with me.”

“What if you…had hurt Yoongi? What if you didn’t aim for his arm?”

“The thing is, after that day, I went for training, I got a license and I know how to use it. Eighteen-year-old me was clueless and scared. I aimed for the pipe behind Jungkook, I guess Yoongi got scared and tried to save him, I had no idea it would hit his arm.”

“Taehyung, I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t go there intending to hurt anyone, ___. I didn’t aim at Jungkook or Yoongi, I was trying to scare him like he was doing with me. It was purely an accident.”

You’re blinking at him, slowly making sense of his words. Suddenly, your shoulder feels cold, he scoots away from you, buttoning up his blazer.

“Anyway, that’s my story. I just wanted you to know if we decide to take things further.”

You can tell how he’s feeling. He just poured out the most defining moments of his life and you’re pondering on something you’ve already discussed multiple times before. Somehow, you feel like he’s contradicting himself, saying that he’s not who he was but he’s still careless with a weapon like that. Whether he likes it or not, you’re going to have to talk about it again. But now it’s your turn.

“This is my story.”

You start from the beginning, just like he did. From your religious parents, to how you met Jungkook and Yoongi, to how things started with Jungkook, to how you found out who Jungkook’s father is. Somehow, it seems a lot worse than his story when you recall how you witnessed Jungkook’s father’s gang blow up a whole building, countless deaths taking place right in front of your eyes. How you stuck with Jungkook.

Till he didn’t stick with you anymore, retelling the story of how he left, which seems incredibly similar to what his own father had done. It makes you think.

He’s caressing the back of your knuckles with his thumb, a regretful tint to his eyes.

“Is that why you wanted us to work things out? Did you somehow relate to my situation?”

He licks his lips, “I saw my mother in you.”

Your heart clenches in your chest, vision going blurry.

“Why she did what she did.”

“Tae…”

Hoping you don’t ruin the eye makeup Yuri took hours perfecting, you dab at your eyes, unable to fight the tight lump in your throat any longer.

“But most importantly, I saw myself in Junho.”

You continue to chat, his words stir a range of emotions, words refusing to come out as you blink at him. Just then, the waiter comes around with the bill, forcing you to conceal your face behind Taehyung. You leave the restaurant in silence, soft jazz filling the car as he takes the long route back home, turning to you when you stop at a red light.

“I’m glad we finally talked.”

You smile, half his face illuminated by the city lights. This whole evening makes you feel closer to him, the yearning extending into something else, something strong and latching onto him as he sits and speaks to you with his telling eyes.

Something blossoms in your chest. You want him. But not in a lustful sense, that too, but more. Your own thoughts fail to pinpoint the feeling.

His shirt is unbuttoned, tie loose around his neck.

“What’s wrong, love?”

Acting on impulse, you unclick your seatbelt and jump across the console, catching his lips in a searing kiss. He kisses you back just as thirsty, the breath he takes in through his nose sharp and stuttered as your fingers curl around his neck, peppering kisses all over his handsome face, uncaring as the straps of your dress drop from shoulders.

Keeping you in his lap, he speeds down the highway as you continue to nip and suck at the side of his throat, hearing him groan when your tongue swirls around the bruise just below his ear. You work on giving him a matching one of the other side, turning his head for your easy access.

“Fuck, my place or yours?”

“Yours,” you hum, catching his earlobe between your teeth to hear him grunt, girthy cock pressing into the underside of your thighs. You’re soaking through your panties, pulling at his tie then working on unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, dark lipstick marks scattered across his shirt, face and chest.

Once you’re parked in his driveway, he carries you bridal style up the staircase, navigating through his mansion while you continue with you assault on your neck, heels slipping from your feet, wanting nothing more than to have his neck marked with your love. You’re being tossed onto the bed, breath hitching in your throat when you find your reflection on the ceiling, lipstick smeared across your chin and cheeks, hair a mess.

“What’s gotten into you, today?” He husks, undoing the strap on his watch before discarding his belt in a similar fashion, the clink of the clasp sending a thrill up the length of your spine. His rings come off next, clattering to the nightstand.

You kneel at the foot of the bed, working on pushing his top garments over his shoulders.

“Nothing, but I’m hoping you do.”

A strangled gasp tumbles from your lips when he fits a hand into the back of your head and grabs a fistful of hair, tilting your head up so your gaze is on the ceiling once again, the tantalizing sight of his back through his button up has you clenching your thighs together.

“Naughty today, hm?”

You grin salaciously, “you like me naughty.”

He spins you around harshly, back pressed into his chest as his fingers pull down the zip on the side of your dress, breath hot against your flushed skin.

“No, I don’t. You know what happens when you’re naughty.”

Batting your lashes, you meet his gaze in the reflection, “maybe I need you to remind me.”

His tie is being pulled over his head, rolled up into a ball before being shoved into your gaping mouth, the narrow end sticking out. You moan around the dry fabric as he pushes you back down on the bed and flips you over onto your back, dress a useless piece of material draped on your body. He’s looking down at you with a biting smirk, moonlight hitting his face as if it’s his own personal spotlight, shining on him as he removes his shirt, muscles rippling with the movement.

He sets his hands on either side of your head, you’re looking up, watching as his back flexes deliciously, setting his weight on your lower half which has you spreading your legs, core aching to be filled, touched, anything.

“That enough to remind you?”

You shake your head, watching as his jaw clenches. Whining as he pulls away, you feel a light breeze sift through the diaphanous curtains and dust your skin. Goosebumps rising as he peels your dress off your body, his eyes widening a bit once he sees your matching purple bra and thong.

He reaches for your right leg by the ankle, bringing your foot up to his mouth. Staring at the darkened spot between your legs with ravenous eyes.

You wiggle your toes in front of his face, remembering what you talked about the last time. What he likes. What you like. His eyebrows lift in question and you dare to move your feet closer to his face, core pulsing once you feel his tongue slide between your big and second toe, fingers twitching when his lips wrap around the middle one, the sensation…so new but amazing.

His cock strains in his pants – reminding you that you have another foot. Ever so slowly, moaning around the ball in your mouth when his tongue moves lower to lick at the creases in your foot, you rub at his bulge, flexing your foot against it. It’s a workout, trying to keep the right angle, but the look on his face is worth it. And as he continues to tongue at your foot, heat unfurling in your lower abdomen, he unzips his pants, pulling out his cock in one swift movement.

The tip is glazed with precum, leaking as you drag the length of your foot up and down the shaft, hearing a guttural moan from him. His cock is hot and heavy against your foot, the feeling so foreign as your toes curl around the head, feeling his juices leak between your toes.

When your foot glides down and back up, pausing at the head, his hips jerk forward, thrusting against your skin as he suckles on your toes one by one. You speed up your movements, seeing his brows furrow, lip tucked between his teeth after he lets go of your toes with a loud pop, moving back to sink to his stomach, spreading your legs with his large palms on your inner thighs.

He tears at your panties, ignoring your squeals before blowing hot air onto your puffy clit, eyes shut as spreads open your folds with his index and middle fingers.

“You’re fucking dripping,” he sighs, breath kissing your clit as he continues to speak, taunt you till you’re pushing his head down into your pussy, fingers buried in his hair, “did you enjoy my mouth on your feet that much?”

You want to say that no, I enjoyed watching you fall apart as you fucked my foot, but you can’t. Jaw aching as it stays pried open with the soggy tie.

He runs his knuckles from your clit to your weeping hole, tip of his tongue pressing into your clit. Your back arches off the bed, sticky toes curling, eyes rolling back with the sharp motion of his tongue flicking your clit at breakneck speed. Fire ignites in you lower belly a lot faster than you expected, eyes slipping open to watch as his head shakes between your legs, light stubble grazing your thighs, hot mouth glued to your cunt that responds to every stroke of his tongue.

“Hmmmmmm,” he hums into your pussy, dragging out the sound in time with the drags of his tongue against your swollen folds, tongue hooked under the hood of your clit.

You thrash under him, feet planted on the bed as you rut into his face, drenching his tongue and cheeks with your slick. Your moans are muffled, sweat building on your forehead. Breath escaping your lungs when he sinks two fingers inside you in one fluid motion, abusing that spongy spot within your walls till your thighs tremble around his face.

“Hmmmmm.” The sound reverberates through every inch of your body, cunt fluttering around his fingers.

In a second, his movements stop just as you’re nearing the edge, an animalistic sound leaving your throat when he removes his tongue and fingers, eyes glinting with mischief. He slaps your pussy twice, leaving you twitching and rolling onto your side in a ball of sweat and sadness. The position gives him access to the clasp on your bra, ridding you of the flimsy material.

His hand rears back to land a resounding slap to your cunt again, a squeal of his name leaping up your throat when he directs his attention your ass, flesh rippling under his hand.

“Didn’t think you could get away that easily, hm? You weren’t being so naughty though,” he chuckles, kicking off his pants and boxers, now as bare as you. “So that was nothing.”

The heat in your pussy tells you otherwise, begging for release.

His eyes soften, caressing your cheeks with the back of his hand as he settles between your legs, cock brushing your thigh.

“Do you remember what we talked about? Or do you need reminding again?”

You chuckle breathlessly, throwing your arms around his neck as he lifts you up with one arm to put you up further on the bed, pillows resting under your head.

“I do,” you smile, locking your ankles behind his waist, “I’m on the pill.”

“I’ve only ever been with you recently,” he grins coyly, sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead, “I’m clean.”

“Me too,” you say proudly, jutting your hips closer to his.

“I really want this,” he professes, lining his cock with your entrance. You eye the point where your sexes meet, waiting with bated breath.

“Me too.”

He covers your mouth with his, tongue entering your mouth just as he sinks in to the hilt. Your mouth hangs open, feeling every ridge, every twitch of his cock against your ridged walls as he drags in and out, groans pouring into your mouth.

“Tae,” you cry out, nails piercing his back as he stretches you out, walls hugging his cock with each pivot of his hips. You watch his ass move in the reflection, taking in the sight hazily till you can’t keep your eyes open any longer.

“Yes, love,” he moans, kissing you feverishly, but you’re unable to return his kisses, so enthralled by the feel of his long cock sinking in and out of your pussy, moans getting louder as the bulbous tip brushes your sweet spot on every thrust.

“I feel so f-full,” you sigh, lips pressed to his neck once he picks up the pace, chest brushing your perky nipples.

“Yeah? You do? You’re gonna feel more full when I stuff you with my cum.”

Your eyes roll back, panting into his neck as his chest stays pressed against yours, his hips working at an inhumane pace.

“Fuck, you’d like that, hm? Fill you with my cum till it’s leaking out of you.”

“I want it,” you moan, trying to meet his every thrust with your own hips, “want your cum.”

“Yeah? What else?”

You’re riding on the euphoric feeling of his cock drilling into you, speaking without thinking.

“Want you to cum inside me,” you whisper, whimpering as he continues to pound you into the bed, words stuttered with the movement, “wanna…fuck!”

His pants into your ear, sweat dripping from his forehead, “wanna what?”

“Tae,” you let out a drawn-out moan, so close to the precipice, nothing but him and his skin rubbing against yours centered in your mind.

“Tell me love, fuck, you like that name?” He laughs, cupping your chin to land another sloppy kiss on your lips.

“Want you to cum deep inside me,” you blubber, mascara streaking down your cheeks as your teeth grind into each, etching the feel of his cock buried inside you in your mind as he plunges into you at a slower pace.

“I will, fuck but where—”

You cry out, orgasm hitting you in slow, consuming waves, walls closing in around him as his hips stutter, moaning into your neck.

“Fuck, fuck, want me to cum inside you?”

“Yes,” you sigh, rolling your hips into his and clenching around him, watching as his pretty eyes flutter shut, a groan of your name filling the hot air. There’s so much more you want to say, but you’re afraid you might scare him away, given your circumstances. Like you want him to fuck you so full of his cum you might…

And then you feel him unleash hot ropes of cum inside you, the idea of him fucking a baby inside you has heat travelling up your spine again, teeth piercing into your lower lip as the sensation triggers your second high, clutching onto him as he fucks into you, making the best of it before pulling out. When you clench again, a lump of white spills out of you and you moan, the sound a little alarming to you since he’s watching you so intently, cock soft and wet against his leg.

Wordlessly, he pulls you into his arms, pecking the back of your neck daintily. Once you catch your breath, you turn to him, finding his eyes on you. You can’t help but wonder if you said something you can’t remember. If you gave too much away, but he just smiles, the same boyish smile that makes your heart skip a beat.

“That was amazing,” he mumbles sleepily, fingers trailing down the valley of your breasts. Grinning stupidly, you rest your cheek against his chest, knowing you should get up to clean yourself since the feel of his cum drying on your thighs isn’t too pleasant. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head, leaving you a little dizzy. So close to him.

The sound of your phone ringing cuts through the sweet moment, and when you sit up to answer it, he pulls you back down, whining.

“Leave it, if it’s important they’ll call again.”

Settling in his arms again, you wait for the call, but it doesn’t come. And it was in your best interest not to answer anyway, since it’d just ruin your night.

Yoongi, on the other line, angry. Asking why you decided to hire someone to hack into Jungkook’s phone and interfere with his business.

erm…yeah 🫣 please let me know what you guys think !! i would love to hear from you ✉️♡

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blacklister214 · 2 months

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Honesty and Codology: Chapter 1 (Eejit)

I've had Scarnash on the brain since 4x06 and a strong hankering to write a POV fic for Patrick. This one takes place in the middle of 2x06 while Patrick is recovering in the hospital. I may do more chapters, but I have to warn you, my muses are fickle. Replies, questions, and reblogs are always appreciated! Apologies in advance for the typos I'm certain I missed. Enjoy!

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Patrick shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable on the lumpy mattress. There had been times when he’d slept on much worse, but the feathered bed he'd used for the past five years had spoiled him.

The nurse had administered the pain medication, so his leg was no longer leaving him in constant agony, but the ache was still there. Perhaps it was better to focus on that, than the disquiet of being alone in the hospital room. Patrick never liked silence. It gave him too much time with his thoughts.

He’d had his men stake out every entrance to the building, so he could, theoretically, go to sleep without endangering his own life. Unfortunately, some instincts were harder to overcome than others. How much did he really trust his men? If the bribe were right, would one of them allow his would be killer chance to finish the job? Such contemplations made it rather hard to relax. He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and willed the medicine to send him into a peaceful slumber.

“Hello Patrick.” Patrick’s hand immediately dove beneath his sheets to where he’d hidden his pistol. He tried to blink the blurriness from his vision as he aimed his weapon at the figure in the visitor’s chair.

Black bowler hat. Worn green waistcoat. Pocket watch. Fond, but vaguely disapproving expression on his face. It was Michael, exactly as he’d been the last time Patrick had seen him alive.

"That laudanum must have been strong.” He’d been warned about the possible side effects of the drug, but he didn’t recall seeing spirits as being one of them.

“Interesting way to greet your brother.” Patrick realized that he was still pointing the gun at Michael…no not Michael…at the empty chair where he was imagining Michael to be. Still, best to return the gun to its hiding spot before a nurse returned and caught him with it. Strictly speaking patients weren’t allowed weapons, but he’d gotten Clarence to smuggle one in.

“You’re not my brother. Just a hallucination, brought on by painkillers.” It was important for Patrick to state it out loud. He’d enjoyed reading A Christmas Carol as much as anyone, but he did not believe in ghosts.

“Does that mean you’re not pleased to see me?” The vision raised one eyebrow in a manner that was so familiar, so perfectly Michael, that Patrick had to swallow hard to keep tears from welling in his eyes. To see a memory animated before him was a miracle he’d never dreamed he’d witness.

“Nice to have visitors of any sort, I suppose.” Patrick frowned. He’d been aiming for nonchalant, but that had come out a bit self-pitying. He didn’t need a constant stream of people bothering him while was trying to rest.

“Clarence stopped by.”

Patrick almost asked about how Michael knew about Clarence, since he’d been hired after Michael’s death. Then he remembered he’d already decided that “Michael” was a product of his own brain. Whatever Patrick knew, Michael would as well.

“He needed me to sign some papers. God forbid my being shot interferes with the running of the accounts.” Clarence was a good employee. Loyal, hardworking. Certainly one of Patrick’s shrewder hires. Still, it wasn’t like they had a friendship. Employer and employee was a difficult line to cross and frankly they didn’t have much in common beyond a desire to see Nash and Sons succeed.

“Maggie would be here, if you’d bother telling her what happened. Eamonn, as well I suspect.”

The tone of gentle chastiment was all too familiar to Patrick’s ears. Whenever Patrick has caused mischief, and he had quite frequently, it was always the same. Why Patrick? Why did you leave a dead mouse in your teacher’s desk drawer? Why did you throw Liam O’Toole’s fishing pole in the river? Why did you steal the tart off Ma’s tray, when she told you to wait until after supper?

“No point in worrying them.” He’d gotten to know the witnesses to his brother’s murder over the years, and Patrick liked them both. Still, the dark history that bound them all together made him reluctant to form any tighter bonds. He was convinced he’d only survived his brother’s death because of Nash and Sons. He poured everything he had into the business, into making Michael’s dream a reality. Patrick couldn’t have done that with regular reminders of what he’d lost.

“True. What are a few bullets in a leg in the grand scheme of things? You have two, after all.”

Patrick has a strong impulse to cross his arms over his chest. He was no longer a child attempting to stand his ground with his much older brother. Patrick realized with a jolt that they were the same age now. Good god, seven years had flown quickly. What once seemed an impossibly large chasm was no more.

“The situation is well in hand. I have the best investigator in London working the case.” He considered qualifying that statement, with “outside himself”, but rejected it. “Michael” was in his head, and Patrick had no illusions about how he rated against Eliza Scarlet.

“The lady detective.”

There was something odd in Michael’s inflection when he used the sobriquet. Perhaps a slight emphasis on the word “lady”? Patrick doubted that even a Michael of his imagination would take issue with a female PI. Their own mother, God rest her, had had a commanding presence that generals would envy.

Perhaps it was the poshness the title implied. Patrick himself had made the mistake of dismissing the “Lady Detective” for that very reason. Women of the middle and upper classes, as a rule, hadn’t much in the way of grit. The only ambitions they were encouraged to nurture were of a matrimonial bent.

“She’s very good. Tenacious. Ambitious. Clever. Hoodwinked me, more than once.” St. Clair had been furious when he’d shown up at the office, ranting about “that woman” making fools of them both. Patrick had agreed to buy up every available copy of the circular just to calm him down. Months later and Patrick was still using the story of his humiliation as tinder for his fires.

“That must have been quite the experience for you.”

Patrick looked down, smiling to himself at the memory of surprising her at her home. She had been confused by his smile and words of congratulations. She had a right to be. By her own admission her trick had hurt his relationship with St. Clair, embarrassed him in the eyes of the public, and potentially stuck him with a lawsuit. By rights he should have been furious with her…but he wasn’t.

The fact was, he couldn’t remember a case where he’d enjoyed himself more. As he’d told her, he loved a challenge, and Eliza Scarlet was nothing if not challenging. Any anger he felt at the outcome was overpowered by the swell of admiration for her and the intense desire to make her a part of his agency.

Patrick, glanced back up, suddenly aware he’d been musing to himself for over a minute. That was rude, even to a figment of his own imagination. Michael did not seem at all perturbed at being ignored. On the contrary, he was smirking at Patrick in a disconcerting manner, as though he were enjoying a joke at Patrick’s expense.

“The point is, she’ll find out who was behind it.” Who had shot him, and why? A difficult question to answer. Someone he’d put away? A source of information he’d squeezed one time too many? A jealous husband? Not, of course, that Patrick would deliberately dally with a married woman. Too much trouble. But it wouldn’t be the first time a woman claimed widowhood a bit prematurely. Then, of course, there was always the possibility it was O’Driscoll. He had received no word from Eamonn or Maggie, but ships came in and out of the docks every day. It was possible his brother’s killer had avoided them, choosing to have Patrick removed before eliminating the more vulnerable targets.

“Does it trouble you that you’ve angered so many people, you haven’t a clue who wants you dead?”

Patrick looked at Michael sharply, the memory of O’Driscoll coating his tongue with bitterness.

“You’re a fine one to talk.” An old anger blossomed in Patrick’s chest as he returned to that night in his mind. Michael had gone to the docks alone that night, rather than wait for Patrick. If Patrick had ever done something so foolish, Michael would have tanned his hide.

“That’s unfair.”

“You should have taken me with you.” They were supposed to stick together. That was the deal they’d made. Michael, for the first time in his life, had broken his word, and he’d left Patrick all alone.

“You weren’t there when the tip came in.”

A fact continued to haunt Patrick to this day. He hadn’t been there. He’d been down at the tavern drinking and flirting with lasses.

“We’d worked for two weeks straight on the case for next to nothing. I needed a break!” The words felt hollow, even as he said them. Selfish. As hard as Patrick worked, Michael had worked double. He never complained either. He had been so good. He’d always been so good. Patrick sometimes wondered if his being born was the universe balancing things out.

“I never said you didn’t. I told you to go, remember?”

Of course he did. Michael had forever been Patrick’s greatest advocate. Smallpox took both their parents when Patrick was only 8 years old. Michael had kept them both housed, fed, and clothed, working odd jobs until he was old enough to join the Royal Irish Constabulary. When Patrick was old enough, Michael had given him a recommendation. Patrick had been drummed out for insubordination, and Michael had immediately resigned his post. He’d gotten them passage to London and worked menial jobs until they’d saved enough to open Nash & Sons.

“You should have come with me.” Just once, couldn’t Michael have been selfish? Ignored responsibility for a single evening?

“I couldn’t. I’d made a promise.” Patrick briefly closed his eyes. He remembered the look on the faces of Maggie’s family, desperate for their daughter’s return. Did he really blame Michael for not wanting to waste time tracking Patrick down? No. Not with Maggie’s life on the line. In his heart of hearts, he knew where the blame truly lay.

“You and your honesty.”

“You and your codology.”

Their old refrain. He remembered returning to their very first office with a small sign engraved “Nash and Sons.” When Michael had pointed out neither of them actually HAD sons, Patrick had explained that they were the “Sons.” The name implied that business was inherited, with a legacy of success, rather than an upstart agency. Michael had shaken his head in exasperation, but allowed Patrick’s his way.

Patrick had often joked that if it bothered him so much, he could find himself a wife and have some children. Michael had always smiled and said, “Or you could.” Then they’d both laugh at the likelihood of that happening.

“You’ll be pleased to know I have been a bit more truthful of late.” The look on Michael’s face was skeptical.

“Oh really?”

“Miss Scarlett. I offered her a fair rate for referring cases to her, rather than just taking my finder’s fee off the top.”

Today had actually been something of a success, bullets in his leg notwithstanding. His months of careful planning had paid off. Sending cases her way. Paying Detective Phelps for news regarding Inspector Wellington. He’d waited for the perfect moment, then struck.

At first his proposal had not had the warmest of receptions, but in the end she had capitulated. Not totally, of course. Not yet. And naturally she’d managed to rest a small victory of her own from the encounter. Still, being out an extra month’s pay was more than worth the exhilaration that came with going toe to toe with a worthy opponent.

“A noble gesture, I am sure. Not in the least self-serving.” Patrick rolled his eyes at the rebuke.

“I didn’t grow our business to what it is today by being altruistic. Besides, Eliza despises charity. I would have mortally wounded her pride.”

Her disgruntled tone when she decried needing his help told him everything he needed to know on that score. She could accept a business exchange, but under no circumstances did she want his pity. She was a unique woman, who was more offended by chivalry than chicanery.

“Eliza?” Patrick realized that he’d unintentionally used her first name. Odd, that.

“I meant Miss Scarlett. A slip of the tongue.”

“That would be a first.” Michael wasn’t wrong. Patrick's words were his best weapons and he usually wielded them with great care. Patrick shook his head and attempted to shrug it off.

“I am, as I mentioned, on rather strong medication.”

Michael made a non-committal sound and rose.

“Perhaps it's best I leave you to rest then.” He turned toward the door, as though he were a flesh and blood visitor, not a phantom of Patrick’s mind. Phantom or no though, Patrick wasn’t quite ready for him to disappear.

“Michael?” His brother paused and glanced back at him, “Why now? After all these years, why am I dreaming of you now?”

Michael scratched his beard.

“I thought you said it was the laudenum. That I’m just in your imagination.” Patrick supposed Michael had a point. Any answer Michael gave would ultimately come from himself. Still, he wanted a response.

“I’m curious about what I’d imagine you to say.” That same mysterious smile from earlier returned to his brother’s face.

“You’re the detective. Has something changed in your life lately? Something you’d want to talk to me about? Or someone?” Patrick’s eyes widened as Michael's implication suddenly dawned on him. Eliza Scarlet. Somehow she had triggered this…encounter.

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Michael. What exactly was he saying? That he fancied her? She was strong and clever and funny and pretty and a man would be mad not to be drawn toward that. And yes, she had a disturbing tendency to make him want to be more fair and honest, at least with her. All that though, was besides the point.

His affairs with women were uncomplicated things. He was interested in experienced women who enjoyed occasional companionship, but didn’t want the burden of a husband. That suited him perfectly. He didn’t have time for anything else. Besides, it was clear to anyone with eyes she had her heart set on Inspector William Wellington. Not that the fool deserved her, but that wasn't the main issue either. The issue was that she was going to be an excellent asset to his business, and he would never do anything to compromise that. Nash and Sons came first. Always.

Though he had to admit, it had been nice, when he’d opened his eyes and found that she’d stayed with him from his transportation to the hospital through the surgery. It was nice to have someone who cared, at least a little. Feck.

Patrick glared up at his brother.

“Eejit.” Since when had Michael been the one to stir up unnecessary trouble? That was Patrick’s role and he’d thank his brother to remember it. The corners of Michaels’ lips tilted up at the insult.

“According to you, you’re only talking to yourself. Now, get some sleep.” Patrick’s eyelids suddenly felt impossibly heavy and began to close. Fighting against his stupor, he managed to get out the words he hadn’t been able to say all those years ago.

“Good bye, Michael.”

“Good night, Patrick.”

#patrick nash #miss scarlet and the duke #fanfiction #eliza scarlet #michael nash #scarnash #eliza x patrick

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langdhon · 7 months

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THINGS YOUR MUSE WILL NOTICE ABOUT MINE. repost , do not reblog.

WHAT THEY LOOK LIKE . 5'11" tall and slim built, toned. Rosy skin tone and strawberry blond, wavy hair that he always keeps at upper back length. He rejects the striking resemblance with Tate he has when his hair is cut short and, due to that, curly. Strong jawline, hooded eyes, plump lips, his face is also almost symmetrical. He enhances his piercing blue eyes with that signature eyeshadow he always wears, red being a perfect contrast to bring out the blue even more. While four or five (verse dependent) rings adorn his fingers, Michael doesn't wear any other jewelry. The only accessoire you'll frequently see on him is a silk scarf, either black or red; speaking of which, you won't see him wear any other colors. If we talk makeup, he also uses eyebrow pencil to give them a little more shape, otherwise the blond brows would go under. He tends to don elegant attire that comes with a gothic touch, though never too scene-like, so you're left guessing whether he's one of those people or just happens to dress similar to them. You won't see him wear sneakers or sandals ever. Usually boots, ankle boots or horseman's boots in slightly varying styles. However, he defies cliches with details about his appearance and wants to catch the attention when he enters a room. Also noteworthy, he simpers/smiles a lot because even if there's no explicit reason for him to be delighted, this way you still can guess he's got some mischief on his mind that entertains himself alone. And others around are left wondering what type of person he is; super stern or a little shit? The answer is: both.

WHAT THEY SMELL LIKE . musky but sweet, because he prefers sweet scents overall, none as penetrating as the aftershave a lot of men seem to bathe in. If you know what I mean. He uses perfume, mostly unisex fragrances and with preference for fruity rather than flowery, although vanilla is his weakness and it'll likely be in the mix. Sometimes he'll smell a touch of fresh blood, depending on the situation you catch him in, or leather if he got himself a new fancy leather coat. If you're a witch, for example, who can smell souls like Misty Day can... he'll reek of death and decay. It's up to how your own soul is coded whether you like this or not.

WHAT THEY TASTE LIKE . I don't know what humans taste like in the sensual sense, but since he has a thorough skincare routine which includes body oils after a bath or lotions, he's likely to taste sweet? His breath/mouth will taste either minty, or of whatever he just ate/drank.

WHAT THEY SOUND LIKE . Michael doesn't have a deep voice, neither is it uncomfortably high-pitched. Usually his tone of voice is on the softer side, velvety as I like to describe it more often than not; as if he's trying to coax you into doing something with every word. Even if he's talking about completely trivial things. Depending on his mood or the topic, there's also a wee lilt of amusement swinging along. His laughter sounds boyish, definitely less soft than his speaking tone and a tad deeper. But if you don't know him? You'll likely think it's mockery when he laughs, that he laughs at you specifically, although this might not even be the case. He rarely yells. When he does, though, the softness is all gone from his voice; self-explanatory. Idk if it's noteworthy, but Michael should never sing because he would keep missing tones and if he'd sing very loudly, his voice would likely crack sinde he has 0 exercise. Whenever he gets nervous or irritated, he'll tend to stammer. So when he tries to uphold a confident mask during a moment causing him stress, his speech will likely rat him out. In moments where his demonic side flickers through (black eyes, bone white skin etc), his voice will sound doubled with the second being much deeper. There'll also be an echo, no matter how big or small the room is; unnatural. That happens seldom, though, and shouldn't be the first thing anyone notices when meeting him.

WHAT THEY FEEL LIKE . his body temperature is higher by default, almost feverish. So yes, his touch feels extremely warm, feverish. He has overall super soft skin, his hair is described in canon literally as feeling like silk, too. You see his hands, feel them, and just know he's never bent a finger for any hard work. He heals from injuries, so you won't feel any scarring either on him. If we talk what he feels like as in his presence as such? You'll either feel drawn to him because to your deepest core he represents the key to all things you always wanted but never dared to even mention, or you'll feel highly uncomfortable around him because his presence tells your primal instincts he's danger. Of course neither has to apply, it really depends on the person, because his presence can as well feel like that of someone you might know from somewhere but can't pinpoint where from. People who befriended him, people he actually loves and who love him, tend to feel safe by merely being near him. He can keep you safe, after all, and something deep within knows that once you're close with him. But he can also demolish you at any moment.

tagged by : @viiolencia ♥ tagging: @anthrcpophagi @butscrewmefirst @colorsdevoid @desiredprince @eyeless-smiles @fallenregent @hecatespower @hybrid-royalty @hiveruled @monstriiss @malka-lisitsa @multi-royalty @pohlepen @pumpcursed @ravenskeeper @ruinedmyself @traumapyre @untilthcyrot @zealctry

#⛧ 𝘽𝙇𝘼𝙎𝙋𝙃𝙀𝙈𝙊𝙐𝙎 𝙍𝙐𝙈𝙊𝙍𝙎 // study.#this was fun

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sumeru-academy · 2 years

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M.U.S.E. Event Case 008. Ayaka Kamisato X Female Reader.

◇ Report submitted by: Moderator Chewie on ▇▇▇▇.

mention of malnutrition, vomit, gore.

CASE FILE. MUSE-008

CLASS. FUTAKUCHI-ONNA

SEVERITY. 7 / 10

DESCRIPTION. ▇▇▇▇ was killed today. The potent smell of blood had been hanging in the air for quite some time now, ▇▇▇▇ had become immune to the despair which hung over them.

You were unable to tell if the emotion you were feeling was raw excitement or anxiety so strong it was enough to skin you alive. Feeling worms crawl under your skin in a comforting way. Either way, you waited in front of the main office in anticipation, General Gorou had instructed you to come to the Inazuman Headquarters for your first assignment. You’d been stuck doing grunt work for a good year and a half. All the ruthless bootcamp training, the taste of mud still slimed its way into your tastebuds whenever you thought about it.

With a slight huff, you slid the shoji door. The general waited there in a formal hakama, eyes ahead to the empty space in front of him at the low table. A neatly folded piece of paper presented in front of you, your assignment. You shakily seated yourself in front of him with a determined, nervous, smile. He bowed to you, his eyes never wavering. You swallowed and bowed back. No words were exchanged when he slid the piece of paper over to you and stared into your eyes.

Quivering hands, the paper found its way to your fingers. You stood up and left the room.

You wanted to vomit out of fear and piss yourself from the excitement which mixed in your veins. As soon as you left the premises you couldn’t help but happily tap your feet against the floor in a tiny dance. A squeal left your lips as you danced around.

The worst thing about this entire experience was the fact you had to walk all the way there on your own, your poor two feet. It wasn’t all that far, perhaps only a couple days if you took minimal breaks.

You had walked through a grand total of 6 different villages. Each riddled with poverty and death, your chest aches in pity once you reach your destination. Mud huts are built with roofs made of straw and leaves of rice plants. Like most villages of poor wealth, the population consisted of a majority of women and young boys. Men were usually the first to die of over exhaustion in the fields and providing food. However, this village had one characteristic that made your stomach queasy, the place was swamped with the shogunate’s samurai.

Samurai never scared you particularly, you’d just needed to show them your identification as a MUSE soldier, and they would cause little trouble.

“Please let her go, she didn’t mean any harm!” one of the women screamed, a smaller girl with white hair trapped within the first of a much larger man covered in traditional armor.

Your mind raced, before you could process the information you were already standing in front of the pair. Legs apart with your stance clearly ready to take arms.

“Would you be so kind as to let the young woman go?” Your hushed voice was hardly above a whisper, but it was enough to get the attention of the woman and the samurai manhandling her.

He spat at you, “You lot are always getting in somebody else's business, I really hate you M.U.S.E dogs. Why don’t you do us all a favor and behead this woman here, she’s just as much of a monster as what you’re used to slaying.”

You unsheathed the longsword presented on your back, “I’m allowed to hurt you if you interfere with my job. I need to interview this woman regarding the strange events happening here, please step aside.”

Deep down, you knew you weren’t physically capable to take him on, nothing but the organization’s name to use against him. The samurai realized that this was more trouble than it was worth, with a scoff, he shoved the woman to the floor and walked away from the scene.

“Ayaka!” the bystander rushed to the young woman’s side, her hand resting on her back as she regained her posture.

“Miss Chisato…” the woman dubbed Ayaka whispered.

Her attention was directed towards you. Acidic bile spilled from your lips and onto the dirt road, your legs shook violently you could hardly stand. The two women rushed to your side.

“Ma’am? Are you okay?” Ayaka asked, you used your knees as stands for your hands.

You shook your head, “No, but… It’ll be fine. I just have to wait for this anxiety to subside.”

“Please let me treat you to tea at my home, it’s the least I could do,” Ayaka insisted with a hand on your shoulder, “I-I really think you should get some food in you, you’re clearly malnourished.”

This was the perfect opportunity to get more information about your assignment, although you felt bad for taking up this poor young woman’s time, you needed to start somewhere.

Your assignment was Futakuchi-Onna, an Inazuman yokai which married girls and young adults. The yokai shall possess the victim's head, creating a mouth upon the back of the scalp, and eat an ungodly amount of food. All of the food consumed by the victim goes directly into feeding the demon, the victim will slowly starve to death. The only way to truly purge the yokai is to kill the victim before it finishes the cycle of death.

Which means, soon enough, human blood would taint your hands.

Chisato bared her goodbyes with a small bow, and Ayaka led her to her humble estate.

“Have you heard anything about the food supply dropping dramatically? I’m here to investigate the cause,” you openly admitted, “You see, this is my very first real assignment, and I’m nervous out of my mind.”

Ayaka was too beautiful to describe with English words. Hair as white as snow, sparkling with a blue hue in the sunlight with dazzling navy eyes which pulled you into her world. Her smile was welcoming and made your stomach churn with excitement. You felt like vomiting again. Her home was… Charming. It was one of the larger huts, she stated because it was her brother who was the head of the rice planting farmers. The kanji for Kamisato was engraved into the flat wooden plank outside the gates of their property. The house was one of the few houses made of wood and bamboo. Ayaka welcomed you into her estate and brewed your tea.

“Tell me,” You started, watching her light the fire to the furnace, “Your brother is the head of the farmers here correct? Why don’t you move to one of the wealthier villages instead?”

She didn’t answer you right away, not until the flame had ignited and began to eat the fuel.

A sigh escaped from her pale lips, “Why would we? We have everything we want here.”

Her hands shook as she handled the iron kettle atop the furnace, her thin wrist peeking out of her worn kimono. It was obvious she was malnourished. You never answered her, instead you patiently wanted for her to prepare you tea.

“Why was the samurai treating you so harshly?” Ayaka visibly flinched when you asked her the question.

You were both sitting at her low table, with no pillows present. You sat on your knees and slowly consumed the tea she had presented you with.

She looked to the ground and traced shapes into the worn tatami mats, “Well, my brother is in debt to the family who sent the samurai to the village. He was meant to pay his dues today, but because he’s been working in the fields so much, he hasn’t been able to make an appearance lately…”

That’s strange, you didn’t recall seeing any rice patties near the location. The fields couldn’t be as large to be keeping a man overnight working, especially if there’s other men working out there. Her story didn’t add up, but you nodded and played along anyways. You left the area with your kind regards to Ayaka and slept under a tree right outside the village.

Still unable to see the rice fields that Ayaka spoke of.

You woke up hardly able to breathe, having to chew and swallow the humid air. It had begun to rain early that afternoon. You met with Ayaka once again, heart racing more than usual, your jaw clenched when she spoke to you.

“You’ll get a cold if you stay in the rain for too long, come join me under my umbrella. There’s plenty of room,” Ayaka told you, lifting up her blue paper umbrella and offering some space towards you without getting wet herself.

“As a M.U.S.E employee, I am trained to tolerate this sort of weather. Please don’t worry about it.”

“Nonsense, your face is getting all red, I’ll run you a bath at my home…”

Her insistence was adorable, your cheeks red as they burned with embarrassment. You found yourself getting off a small high when you caught her flowery smell once you had stood next to her under the sunshade. Your heart raced, but your chest never hurt like anxiety had made it ache. Your hands trembled but you were comfortable.

She escorted you to her home and ran you a bath, just as she said she would. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a bath, the warm water sunk into your skin as if you were a sponge. When you had gotten out, she’d lent you a nicer kimono that was a little too big for you.

“You see, you’re much larger than me, this is a kimono that my brother had grown out of. You may wear it,” she insisted, her hands peeking through the shoji screen which separated the bathroom to a hallway.

The kimono was uncomfortable, clearly low-quality silk but you were in no position to complain. For some ungodly reason, the brief smell of iron was presented upon the fabric. It made your stomach hurt unreasonably, the smell of blood bringing back the memories of the harsh boot camps which you were forced to go through. You trembled, breathing quickened, you rushed back into the bathroom and vomited into the bucket you had used to wash yourself with previously. Without a sound, you opened the window above the bath and dumped the bucket of vomit outside into the garden. A pang of guilt stabbed at your core; you brushed it off.

You excited the room and looked for Ayaka, your heart racing just at the thought of seeing her again. She was preparing the furnace to heat up another kettle of tea.

“Oh, (Y/N)! You’re here, I hope you enjoyed your bath,” her voice chipper, the kettle shook in her hands.

Your chest ached, “Do you think that your brother will mind me wearing his old clothes?”

“No, he’s very kind. It’s not like he’s around to care either.”

Her tone dropped an octave, every nerve in your body told you she was dangerous. Her smile was so welcoming, and she made your body feel as if it were set ablaze. The heartfelt way she’d brew tea and serve you rice crackers made you feel loved. You didn’t know that this feeling would be so wonderful, and you desperately wanted to express yourself to her, but you had no clue on where to start.

What if she thought you were weird? You’d only known her for a few days, and the lifestyle of a M.U.S.E employee didn’t have room for fickle things like love. Your imagination drifted as she ranted to you about the samurai, how cute she’d look in a formal kimono welcoming you home from a long mission. How adorable she’d be when she would come up to you and kiss you on the cheek and hug you in order to welcome you home.

Her cheeks puffed out, “You don’t care do you?”

A smidge of panic had set in once she had caught you daydreaming, “I do, the warm bath is just making me a little sleepy is all.”

“I have a remedy for that, scoot close to me.”

You did just that, sitting right by her side. It felt so natural to be around her.

“Lay your head in my lap, I’ll comb your hair as you sleep.”

Oh. You couldn’t think or breathe. Was this truly some fantasy coming to life? You held your breath as she guided your head to her soft legs, your hair was still a little damp, did she mind? Ayaka’s legs were ungodly skinny, and you could feel her bones under the thin layer of fat and muscle which covered her skeleton. She’d been so adamant about you resting, so how could you deny it? You allowed your body to relax, although it wasn’t the most comfortable pillow you fell asleep with her fingers in her hair massaging your scalp. The warm waves of sleep washed over you, feeling the high of her smell starting to sink in.

Ayaka felt disgusted with herself as you laid in her lap. She was so hungry, hungry for you. The back of her skull opened up into a mouth which stank of blood, gore of the most recent kill reeking from its oral cavity. Her white hair moved as if it were the tentacles of some underwater beast, soft sobs escaped her lips but you laid still. The stink of the kill filled your senses, adrenaline rushed through your body as you had dodged the viscous hair follicles with last minute precision. Sparkling tears decorated Ayaka’s wonderful face, she looked as if she were a doll made of China.

The instinct to run away made your legs move before you could even think, you rushed into the brutal downpour which was Inazuma storms. You had no shoes, your feet cold and sticky with mud and heart racing. You stopped at the entry gate and looked back at the Kamisato estate. Moments spent in the pouring rain, your heart ached for Ayaka to return to your line of sight, she never showed. Not even to close the door you had rudely left open in your panic. You abandoned your uniform and your sword inside the home, walking barefoot to the tree you had slept under previously. It provided little to no shelter, but you sat and daydreamed soaked to the bone with the numbness the cold rain gave you. You find comfort in the warmth of Ayaka, you cry to yourself. You plead to an unknown God to allow you to think of a different way to kill the yokai, you cried and sobbed into the void of the downpour. You wanted to scream, so badly, but you had no energy.

You found yourself in your sorrows, when a blonde man approached you. He was of a shorter stature, with a streak of red in his hair and melancholy eyes. He wore a layered yukata with reds and browns, dashes of yellow presented onto the fine silk, reminding you of the autumn trees. His paper umbrella was an ombre shade.

“Your kimono. Where did you get it from?” His voice was husky.

Your gaze was focussed onto the ground, staring at his kimono sandals, “Kamisato Ayaka, it’s originally from her brother, Kamisato Ayato.”

Ayaka’s voice was engraved in your mind, every story of her brother and her parents. Her praises about her amazing family. The modesty with her in that large home, all alone.

“You stole it?”

“No, Kamisato gave it to me,” your voice was monotone to a point you surprised yourself.

He hummed, but you couldn’t hear it over the roar of the rain.

“I am Kaedehara Kazuha, I’m a local, and I saw you run out of Kamisato’s estate. Am I to assume that you fell for Ayaka’s little performance too?”

His wording ignited something inside you that you’d never felt before. Before you could even think you were standing up before him. Face to face with the man you asked him to repeat the words he had just spoken.

“She’s been the reason for all of the recent disappearances, but because nobody has gotten indisputable evidence we can’t exactly just kill her. Her family is also one of the largest patrons for many of the farmers here, since her brother disappeared we haven’t had anybody to go to.” Kazuha’s explanation made you queasy, “You must be new, considering the townspeople talk way too much. There’s a M.U.S.E soldier in the village as of now, hopefully the issue will be solved sooner than later.”

Your hands trembled, as you had realized the weight of the situation. Ayaka never cared for you, she only made it look that way so she could lure you in and kill you. Your chest ached, you started to cry again. Kazuha offered no comfort as he nodded and trailed away at your miserable form.

You called out her name in a weary desperation.

Ayaka had never felt more guilty in her life. It ate at her stomach just as the demon ate at her spirit and soul. She let out a shaky exhale as it had spoken to her. In her head, it’s voice rang out, asking her if she really wanted to continue living. If you wish to continue, it seethed, you must bring me the flesh of a human. Stale rice and tangy tea will not suffice any longer. Stuck inside her home, alone, she had finally found someone that would allow her to trust them. To take care of. Ever since the devouring of her brother she’d hardly been able to handle the isolation inside the cold manor, when you came along you were like the sun.

You were so kind to her, so nervous, so perfect.

You were also the one who would take her head, no matter what.

It has been a whole week, and the village samurai were beginning to debate if they should kill you or not. You’d been threatened more times than you could count, held down with a blade to your neck. Ayaka was too terrified to look you in the eye, the demon in her head feeling the irrational fear whenever you were within ten feet of her. You’d managed to get your uniform and sword back, it was wrinkled and worn.

In the townsquare you stood in front of her, finally able to see her face which was engraved in your mind.

“Kamisato,” the way her surname fell from your lips felt like acid against her eardrums, “I don’t want to kill you.”

Ayaka could feel her face heating up, her mind was running wild. In the heat of the tension she couldn’t focus on your words nor the weight of your tone. All she knew is that she missed your voice. She wanted to invite you to her home, one last time, kiss you softly, and let the demon kill her while in your arms.

“Kamisato, you were one of the few people in this small dainty town that showed me kindness, there is only one way to repay that kindness.”

The youngest Kamisato’s voice was hushed when she spoke, “How?”

“I will kill the thing that is plaguing you. I don’t know how, but I’ll do it.”

A voice in Ayaka’s head screamed and then laughed.

You guided her to a shrine that was three kilometers away, almost two miles. Most of the journey she is on your back with your arms supporting her legs and arms wrapped around your neck. You needed to get this thing out of her, she was too precious to kill. The shrine was worn down, with no shrine maidens or any sort of name, but you had most of the tools used for a small ritual in an attempt to kill it. You surrounded her in sared salts in the center of the shrine hall, having her drink the water from the sacred wells. There was nothing, you simply weren’t trained in this field.

Your throat was sore with terror, Ayaka sitting so wonderfully in the center of the circle with an unwavering smile.

“Close your eyes for me,” she followed your request with no questions.

You stepped inside the circle of salt, as quietly as you could you unsheathe the sword which laid on your hip now. A hand on her head to keep her still. You took a breath in.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Blood filled your vision, the sword cut cleanly through her delicate neck. It sprayed you in your face and you got crimson liquid inside your mouth. Her head fell to the floor and spazzed wildly. The demon died inside her brain allowing her to feel the life slip away from her. You choked on the thick taste of iron; the blood spray decorated your white dress shirt with a vibrant auburn.

Her body fell to the left, hitting your feet. You kicked her limpness off of you and turned in order to vomit onto the shrine’s wooden floors. Her lovely smile still was implanted into her face, her cheeks stuck into the position forevermore. Ayaka, while she was alive, anticipated you’d finally allow her the sweetness of death. She would not be able to participate in the feasts of the God’s, being able to feel what it was like to be full of food again. Able to see her brother again.

The thoughts made you sob harder, the smell rushed to your nose making you hurl even more.

Your entire body shook violently. Hardly able to stand.

Scrambling to find the wall of the structure, you’d sit down and cup your face. Fingers going to your hair and pulling at the roots as you rocked back and forth. Your heart beating wildly and the stink of blood and acid were the only things your senses could memorize.

There, you sat.

Never to be found again within the abyss of insanity.

#mod chewie 🪑#m.u.s.e #ayaka x reader #kamisato ayaka x reader #genshin ayaka x reader #kamisato ayaka #genshin ayaka #genshin imagines #ayaka x you #genshin

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